


In Your Own Time

by yutaeilbot



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abduction, But not explicit, Drunken Confession, M/M, Major injuries, Non-Consensual Touching, Post-Azure Moon, Sexual Content, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Violence, but like its not a big deal i just want u to know its there, felix has become kinda bratty following the war, lots of pregnant women?, no beta we die like Glenn, side ashe/mercedes/dedue, side dorothea/sylvain, they go to almyra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutaeilbot/pseuds/yutaeilbot
Summary: Dimitri had developed a problem of sorts.He just couldn't stop staring.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Kudos: 22
Collections: Dimilix Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> made for the [dimilix big bang](https://twitter.com/dimilixbigbang)! my partner is the wonderful [arthur](https://twitter.com/rrommath) who did some incredible [art](https://twitter.com/rrommath/status/1317230711863083008) to go along with this!! the mod team was great and my partner is great and this was a great first experience in a big bang :)

Rebuilding was an ordeal. Of course, they expected it to be, but it was still a weight crushing Dimitri’s chest like a bolder pinning him to the ground, restricting his breathing to the point of asphyxiation. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it without his friends, without Felix and Sylvain at his side to advise him and Ingrid captaining his guard. 

Having them around made the weight a little less debilitating, lessening the pressure on his lungs so he could breathe easier through each political meeting, each announcement, each decision resting on his shoulders as the king. He was grateful to them. 

They were the closest thing he had to a family anymore — the three of them and Dedue, who was usually busy in his own ventures but was currently on extended leave with his Ashe and their very pregnant Mercedes — and after the trauma of loss and war and the period of being the  _ boar,  _ he realized he needed them now more than ever. Never did they protest, always standing at his side as if they were meant to be there, comforting and familiar in presence alone. 

Sylvain and Felix both had their strengths in the realm of politics. Felix’s discerning eye caught details Dimitri himself would have missed over and over again, and Sylvain’s silver tongue smoothed over many conversations Dimitri may have bumbled through if left to his own devices. He owed them more than they would accept, and had half a mind to reward them regardless of any disagreement, though they both claimed to be perfectly happy and wanting of nothing. Perhaps it was true, but that didn’t make Dimitri feel any less indebted. 

Out of the pair, Felix was present more often than Sylvain, having taken the title of Duke Fraldarius and becoming the right-hand to the king. However, he merged his territory and left it in the capable hands of the Margrave Gautier, claiming he would do nothing but drive it into the ground where Sylvain could easily make it into a thriving territory alongside his own. Because of the expansion of his responsibility, Sylvain found himself in the east often, either caring for the territory or working on political tensions with Sreng, with whom he had negotiated a bountiful relationship that was interspersed with rare and infrequent minor conflicts. 

After the war, Sylvain had married Dorothea, and in the times he was needed in the capital, he left their territory in her more than capable hands. She took to the position of Lady Gautier like she was born for it; the people loved her, and the times she was left in charge were undoubtedly as peaceful as the times Sylvain was home with her. 

That being said, both Sylvain and Felix were at Dimitri’s side frequently, which gave them both plenty of time to observe. Overall this was good, helpful, but only if you ignored that Dimitri had developed… a problem of sorts. 

He just couldn’t stop  _ staring _ _._

Subtlety was never Dimitri’s strong point, and this didn’t change in adulthood; anyone who looked long enough would very clearly see the way Dimitri would look around a room and his eyes would fall on Felix and linger… and  _ linger _ … and would linger until something else was brought to his attention. 

“Hey, Dima,” Sylvain said, bumping Dimitri with his shoulder and grinning his signature shit-eating grin. He sidled up to his left after a meeting regarding the rebuilding of what was once the Adrestian Empire and their very fragile economic state. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” 

Dimitri raised a brow, side-eyeing him as they walked. He gave a vague hum in response. 

“You’ve been staring an awful lot at Felix lately,” Sylvain started, watching Dimitri carefully as he continued. “Are you, like, trying to prank me or something? Or, like, unnerve me? ‘Cause I’d say it’s working.” 

Rather than give any sort of response, this time Dimitri stayed quiet, hoping the heat rising in his face wasn’t visible to Sylvain at all. He hadn’t meant to stare so much, but it had become increasingly more difficult for him to focus in the meetings when Felix was  _ right there _ _,_ expression serious but familiar, the line of his jaw sharp and tempting. 

Once the war had ended, Dimitri decided he would be more gracious with himself, allow himself to really take in the small pleasures of life, not deny himself the joy of beautiful things — Felix just happened to be a beautiful thing. 

Sylvain’s eyes widened, taking in the obvious color tinting Dimitri’s cheeks, as well as his silence. His jaw dropped. 

“Dimitri,” he fake gasped, grinning widely. “Dimitri, are you  _ pining?” _

“N-No!” Dimitri objected all too quickly, lifting his hands to cover his face with a small huff of embarrassment. “I most certainly am not.” 

“Oh, goddess,” Sylvain continued, his voice just dripping with self-satisfaction, as if he had uncovered a delicious secret. “Oh, wow. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, are you  _ in love?”  _

“Sylvain!” Dimitri huffed, reaching out with both hands to shove his friend. The redness in his cheeks only deepened. Was he in love? Honestly, he’d never given much thought to the emotion that bubbled up within him when he looked at Felix. 

“Oh  _ goddess, Dima.”  _ Sylvain cackled. “I’ve always known there was tension between the two of you, but I never would have expected  _ this.” _

Dimitri hip-checked him, sending him stumbling a few steps to the side, before straightening up and clearing his throat. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, hoping his tone was finite enough to end the conversation before Sylvain could say anything else to fluster him. 

“Fine, fine,” Sylvain conceded, falling into step with Dimitri once more and wiping his grin from his own face. “Anyway, what do you think about this journey to the Monastery that the council is urging?” 

“Mm…” Dimitri hummed, pensive as they walked towards Dimitri’s private study, ready to begin another evening of diving into the outrageous piles of paperwork that seem to come out of nowhere these days. “I think it will be nice to see the Professor again.” 

“The  _ Archbishop _ _,_ you mean?” Sylvain snickered, stretching his arms above his head. “I think he wants to be rid of his position about as much as Felix did. They both belonged on the battlefield, not in an office. Don’t you think?” 

Dimitri hummed again, unsure of his thoughts on that particular matter. While it was true both Felix and the Professor were strong and smart, and they definitely knew how to handle a battlefield, Dimitri knew no one could live on the battlefield. 

Regardless of how much stock Felix put into training and strength, he knew all along he couldn’t hope to live that way, right? His life was sorted for him as soon as Glenn passed — at the thought of Glenn, Dimitri sighed a little, but schooled himself into silence once more — so Felix had to know his training would not lead him to a future he could actually pursue, not when so much responsibility waited for him, not when Dimitri needed him so much. 

“Hey, I was just trying to make conversation,” Sylvain said, grabbing Dimitri’s wrist and stopping in the middle of the hallway so Dimitri had no choice but to stop along with him. “They both know there’s reasons they are where they are. They wouldn’t brush it all aside so easily. Felix is still here, isn’t he? Even after merging our territories, he came here to stay. He’s still Duke Fraldarius. He won’t throw that away. The Professor wouldn’t do that either.” 

He was right; Felix and the Professor took their duties seriously, even if it wasn’t what they’d practiced for in their youth. Both men were trustworthy and very dedicated to their positions. Dimitri knew he shouldn’t think too hard about it in the future — his brain was fried enough just trying to handle his own duties, after all. 

“I know,” Dimitri finally said after a moment, gently nodding. “I am simply a bit nervous. I just want everything to go smoothly. I want things to be peaceful.” 

“Isn’t that what we’re working for?” Sylvain smiled and clapped his hand on Dimitri’s shoulder before beginning to walk once more, taking Dimitri with him down the hall. 

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, which Dimitri was infinitely grateful for. About three months into reconstruction, he started to feel like he never had a moment of quiet until he was headed to bed for the evening, but he found Sylvain to be a nice place for silent comfort. Sometimes he thought it odd how Sylvain matured compared to the rest of their class — ending up wiser than his years and headstrong in doing what’s right, while still holding onto his charm and easy-going nature. Dimitri often wished he had been blessed with the same kind of charisma, the same sharp tongue and quick thinking. He always tried to remind himself to count his blessings before asking for more when he found those thoughts lingering in the back of his mind. 

“But, no, really,” Sylvain said, breaking the silence once more with that troublesome grin.  _ “Felix?” _

Dimitri felt himself flush again, but didn’t even look as he reached out and smacked the back of Sylvain’s head. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING this chapter includes battle and major injury and also crying from both the repressed boys

If there was one thing Felix never wanted to do again, it was sit in Garegg Mach and listen to Byleth talk about something. He’d had enough of that in his youth and during the war to think he could live happily without ever being somewhere that reminded him so much of lectures. 

He wasn’t really paying attention to what Byleth was saying — something about the power dynamic of the Church and the Aristocracy, about one being the peoples’ hope and the other being their protection. It was all just drivel to him. He was much more focused on the view from where he sat by the window with his chin propped up in his hand. The Officer’s Academy had been rebuilt once Byleth took up the position as Archbishop. New students and several new professors walked the grounds the same way Felix and his classmates had so many years ago, though not all the faces were unfamiliar.

During the war, they’d spared many of the Black Eagles students by persuading them to join their cause, and many of them returned to the monastery after the war to find themselves once more. Linhardt and Caspar were among those who returned, and had actually managed to find themselves once more, reigniting their inner fires and taking up new positions. 

Linhardt gladly took up the mantle of professor upon being offered it, though Caspar needed some gentle persuasion before he would consider that much responsibility. Regardless, they both greeted Dimitri and Felix as they arrived, seeming happier than they’d been even back when they were all students.

Felix felt that happiness was such a foreign concept to him; sure, he experienced moments of happiness, but he knew those moments were much different to the happiness Caspar and Linhardt had found at the monastery or the happiness Byleth and Yuri had found in each other even before the war had ended. 

He heaved a sigh, but didn’t realize until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Byleth looking down at him, brow furrowed as if concerned. Felix glanced around the room to see Dimitri and several of the others present for the meeting all standing, their eyes fixed on him.

“Are you alright?” Byleth asked, voice soft, terribly unlike the professor Felix had once learned under. “We called for you several times…” 

“I’m fine.” Felix brushed him off, standing as well. He stretched out his shoulders and glanced at Dimitri. “All done?” 

“For the day, yes,” Dimitri answered, smiling sheepishly. “The Professor has some, ah, personal things to attend to, so today’s meeting is adjourned, and we will reconvene tomorrow.” 

Felix merely nodded, but was relieved Dimitri was always willing to bring him up to speed when his mind wandered during meetings and the like. Dimitri had always been like that — especially in their childhoods, when Felix was infinitely more interested in comparing himself with his elder brother. Never did he fall behind on his lessons, never was he left in the dark of conversations around him, so long as Dimitri was by his side. 

He shook his head to himself as everyone began filing out of the room; it was one of those used for strategy meetings during the war, and Felix could vividly picture their entire class at the table, along with Gilbert and his father, with just a glance. 

“Felix,” Dimitri called to him, stepping closer once everyone was gone. “Are you alright?” 

Felix sighed once more, though he was unsure if he was irritated at being asked again or if he was releasing some sort of longing nostalgia with the action. Not that he missed the war or anything like that; he missed the times before then, when things seemed simpler, when it was easiest just to be angry and confrontational, focusing on himself and his strength. He missed having lunch with Byleth and Annette, missed the weekly one-on-one training sessions, missed the way Dimitri smiled so brightly and was able to keep the ghosts at bay. 

It was all destined to fall apart one way or another, wasn’t it? The war merely expedited the process. 

“Just thinking,” he finally said, forcing a cordial smile before brushing past Dimitri to approach the door. “Let’s go get dinner. I wonder if they still serve the same food here.” 

He felt Dimitri’s eyes on his back as he walked, a sensation he’d grown accustomed to over the months, but he neither stopped nor looked back, hoping to leave the past in that stuffy room once and for all. 

⚔

Several days later found them on the road once more, with a small group of a few mounted units and a mostly on-foot guard. Felix rode at Dimitri’s side, with a few pegasus knights flying several yards in front of them. It was mostly a quiet affair, with most sound coming from the shuffling of armor and the natural noises of horses and pegasi.

They were about three-fourths of the way back to Fhirdiad when Felix heard it, a subtle chirping from the surrounding trees. If it were any old bird, he wouldn’t have minded it, but he knew from experience this specific chirp belonged to a bird mostly present in the southern-most parts of the Empire, nearest to the former capital. He’d fought enough battles to recognize it as more than birdsong. 

He raised a hand, signaling for the others around to stop, and hushed Dimitri with a finger before he could ask. His eyes darted around them, taking in the state of the trees around the open clearing they were in, searching until he found what he was looking for: the glint of an arrowhead hidden amongst the branches, poised to shoot. 

“Don’t panic,” Felix whispered to Dimitri next to him, tensing as he mentally prepared himself for a rushed dismount at any moment. “We’re going to be attacked.”

Dimitri stiffened as well, his hand flying to the clasp at his shoulder that Areadbhar was hooked into during travel, ready to jump into battle at a moment’s notice. Felix reached out to him, though, in a gesture trying to get him to relax his posture. 

“Relax,” he said, glancing once more toward the trees. The glint of that arrowhead in the afternoon sun was nowhere to be seen. He cursed himself mentally. “They’ve backed off now that it’s apparent we know they’re there. We just have to be prepared now for when they decide to strike.”

“How can you say this so calmly?” Dimitri demanded, brow furrowed as he gaped at Felix.

“No point getting properly worked up,” he answered with a shrug, though his eyes darting back to the treeline betrayed the way he had been set on edge. “Be on guard, but don’t waste your energy beforehand. They’ll attack before we get to Fhirdiad or they’ll have lost their chance.” 

Felix’s voice was soft, but loud enough for the soldiers around them to have heard him speak. They tensed upon the initial reveal, but convinced themselves to relax slightly before Felix had finished speaking. 

After his years of traveling and fighting in his youth, Felix was familiar with many aspects of war; one he had never quite grasped, though, was the art of subtly revealing an ambush without causing panic. An ambush in itself was worthy of some consternation, but Felix was confident in his abilities on the battlefield, and Dimitri’s, so he found no reason for worry beyond anticipating the first attack.

“We’ll continue,” he said, glancing back at the knights immediately behind them with a nod. “But don’t let your guard down.” 

He nudged his horse into motion once more, his posture straight and ears acutely aware of every little noise around them. The bird call would not sound once more; it was meant to distract, to occupy a target before that first arrow came flying in to initiate the attack. Felix had seen the strategy before, and knew once he’d revealed them, they’d back off, attack from further down the road. 

He just needed to be prepared to react when that arrow finally whizzed out of the forest.

Dimitri followed his lead, spurring his horse forward as well, and the group continued on the path back to the capital. None of the guards spoke, having occupied themselves with being on guard for an attack, but Dimitri had no difficulties filling the silence, recapping the discussion with Byleth that Felix didn’t bother retaining outside of the Monastery’s conference room, and asking Felix’s opinion on their plans for allowing the Church to flourish once more in the nation while keeping the Monarchy and developing National Council in power. 

Things seemed to make more sense to Felix when Dimitri was talking. During meetings like the few they’d had with Byleth over the past days, his normal job was to seek details, to listen for small things that seemed inconsequential but would prove troublesome over time — a job that found no purchase with Byleth as Archbishop. Byleth wasn’t one for flowery words and figurative language, and had always been someone who was succinct and purposeful in planning. On this trip Felix was hardly more than a glorified bodyguard. 

Even then, Dimitri was eager for his opinions, his thoughts on the changes Byleth was making in the church, how Claude’s new role as King of Almyra was going to fit in, the new decrees they would make through the land. Felix had never thought himself one for politics, but Dimitri made it seem so simple, much easier to understand, and he found it quite easy to respond when asked in such an uncomplicated way. 

“Claude is planning on making a diplomatic trip to Fhirdiad soon, did Sylvain tell you?” Dimitri chattered on, occasionally letting his gaze trail to the forest as if inspecting. “He said to expect him within—”

Dimitri’s sentence was cut off when that arrow Felix was waiting for finally came flying out of the treeline. The sound of it striking into Felix’s shoulder was a clear mixture of a thunk and a squelch as it sank into his deltoid. 

_ “Fuck,” _ he hissed, immediately reaching up to grasp the shaft of the arrow. The knights around them were quick to move into a defensive formation, swords and shields at the ready, and the pegasus knights floating nearby overhead swooped into a formation of their own, bows pulled taught and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. 

Blood began seeping out from the wound even before Felix tugged the arrow, but it was nothing compared to the gush that accompanied him pulling the arrow from his arm. He discarded the bloodied thing quickly and slapped his arm over his shoulder, pressing down hard as his eyes darted to the side the arrow had come from. 

Barely concealed by the tree cover was one man, familiar red armor worn with use, still in position from firing. The man seemed pleased that he’d hit his mark. He raised a hand to gesture, and a group of about 20 roughed-up soldiers burst from the trees on either side of them. 

The pegasus knights above them loosed their arrows and immediately struck down a few, but were countered by a veritable spray of arrows shooting out from the trees, striking down a few of the pegasi in return. Felix’s eyes widened. Exactly how many people were they dealing with if 20 of them were rushing them, and still more fired arrows from the trees? 

The mounted knights behind Dimitri and Felix jumped into action, lances at the ready as they rode out mid-way to intercept the rushing force. As expected, a few of those horses fell thanks to the archers in the trees, but even then the knights threw themselves mountless into battle. Quickly, the sound of weapons clashing filled the air, and Felix’s mind raced as those around them threw themselves into the growing fray as well. 

“Fuck,” he cursed again, about to dismount when Dimitri’s hand came down heavy on his wounded shoulder. A familiar warmth filled him, and he glanced over to see a comforting light emanating from Dimitri’s hand over his wound. The bleeding stopped. “Wh—”

“Mercedes said I had a knack for healing magic,” Dimitri explained, curt as he unhooked Areadbhar and dismounted himself. Their horses whinnied and snorted, clearly startled, and Felix took the cue to hop off as well and draw his sword. 

The sword was a welcome weight in his hand, thankfully not exacerbating the minimal ache in his shoulder. The lingering pain of it was almost exactly what he needed to get himself in the proper mindset for a battle, and he glanced around the horses for a split-second to peek at Dimitri, easily blocking an enemy sword with Areadbhar. 

Right.

Felix took a breath to steady himself before rushing into the fight, weaving between familiar knights and unfamiliar soldiers, dodging a sword here, wincing as an arrow cut into his cheek but did not hit him properly. He sprinted towards the woods with all his might; if he could get into the woods, he could dispatch the archers — at least on this side — and ease the incoming fire. 

The closer he got to the treeline, the more pointed the arrow fire became towards him. Less and less of the shots were aimed at the knights, the pegasi, focusing on keeping him out of their cover, but to no avail. He slid behind a tree just in time to narrowly avoid another arrow to the shoulder, and peeked around the trunk cautiously in hopes of sussing out his next targets. 

There was some commotion in the trees then, some easily identifiable movement as the archers looked around for him and changed up their positioning.  He slunk around in the shadows of the forest, swiftly but stealthily dealing with one archer at a time until coming upon the man who had landed the hit in his shoulder. The man seemed frightened, any confidence gained from his hit lost as Felix approached him, wiping at blood on his face and only managing to smear it. 

“What’s the big idea?” Felix asked, though he didn’t really want an answer. He only wanted to make the man squirm by taking a little extra time with him. “Not so tough in close quarters, eh?” 

He was already tiring of this fight — he’d fought people like this before, identical in their initiation and their ragged Adrestian armor, and was bored of them. Years of his life wasted in war with these people made him tired, jaded, not as longing for any cheap fight as he had been in his youth. Shouting from the clearing brought him from his thoughts, and he ended the final man quickly with a clean stab through his abdomen before momentarily sheathing his sword and sprinting back out of the trees. 

The fighting continued, though significantly subdued. Only a few of their Pegasus Knights remained airborne, but there were no more arrows flying from the other treeline, probably taken out by someone in a similar manner to that which Felix employed. Felix spotted Dimitri from across the battlefield and decided to head that way as the battle seemed to be near its end. 

On the way across the area, Felix drew his sword once more, managing a dodge here and a smooth stab as he went. The majority of the enemy fighters lay slain, save for a handful darting between Dimitri and the knights on that side, much to Felix’s pleasure. The quicker the fight ended, the sooner they’d be on their way once more.

That train of thought ended abruptly, as he saw a form force itself from the ground to rush Dimitri from behind. In a normal situation, Felix wouldn’t stress it — Dimitri was an impressive fighter, seasoned and skilled, with good senses and quick reflexes — but in this moment, his brain seemed to toss that information out the window, and he rushed to Dimitri’s back, sliding between him and the attacker in just the right angle to get himself  _ stabbed. _

It wasn’t an arrow to the shoulder, that was for sure. The sword plunged into his lower abdomen, probably directly into some organs, but the sharp pain made Felix’s head spin so bad he likely couldn’t tell you his name, let alone the organs present in his abdomen. 

“Felix!” Dimitri shouted behind him, his eye wide with shock. 

The sword withdrew from his stomach, pulling a thick trail of blood along with it, and Felix dropped his sword in favor of clutching at the wound. Blood gushed from the gash, spilling out from around his fingers without a sign of stopping. His hands shook slightly as he grasped helplessly at his stomach.

With his senses fixated on his injury, Felix could only vaguely make out the sound of Dimitri screaming and the slick sound of Areadbhar piercing flesh. Even when he swayed on his feet and fell into a pair of strong arms, he couldn’t focus properly beyond the pain and the bleeding. 

He looked up at Dimitri’s panicked face, barely registering the tears dripping from Dimitri’s cheeks to his own. Suddenly overcome with the urge, Felix absently lifted a hand to Dimitri’s cheek and wiped a tear away, leaving a smear of blood over the skin, flushed from exertion. 

Dimitri grasped Felix’s hand holding it to his chest before lowering both back to the wound. He pressed their hands over the spot, and Felix could just barely feel the warmth of healing magic flowing into him once again. When that warmth faded, the blood continued to seep through his clothes, dripping onto the ground. 

The realization came to Felix with a gasp that devolved into a cough somewhere in his lungs. 

_ I’m going to die here. _

He wasn’t sure when the tears on his face became more his own than Dimitri’s, both mingling with the blood smeared over his cheeks from earlier, but his vision clouded further as he began crying. He reached up to grasp at Dimitri’s arms. If he had his senses about him, he might have found himself pathetic, crying like a child, but the focus he could afford was torn between the prospect of death lingering over him and Dimitri distressed above him. 

“S-sorry,” he finally grit out, grimacing. He sucked in a deep breath. “Panicked.” 

Dimitri shushed him, glancing frantically at the remaining knights puttering around the battlefield for any of the familiar healers that had been in their group. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t seem to find any, and instead tried using his own, weak magic to help once more.

“Please, Felix, do not apologize,” he said, voice rough with his own sorrow and regret. “This is not your fault. I should have been more attentive.” 

Felix shook his head with a weak sigh. 

“You don’t have to,” he said, turning his hand to intertwine their fingers like he’d wanted to so many times throughout his life. Maybe he could get away with it now. “‘m going to die, aren’t I?” 

“Shut up,” Dimitri nearly sobbed, any manner of his learned propriety tossed aside as he held Felix in his lap, horribly bloodied and paler than ever. “You’re not. I won’t—I won’t  _fucking let you.” _

“It’s okay,” Felix said, letting his blurry eyes flutter closed. “I always knew I’d go out like this. What is a Fraldarius who doesn’t die protecting a Blaiddyd anyway? Not a proper Fraldarius, probably.” 

He sighed, and another sob wrenched itself from Dimitri’s chest. 

“D’you think they’re proud of me?” Felix asked, his voice softening further. The faded visages of his father and brother appeared behind his closed eyelids, smiling — memories from happier times, easier times. 

He felt Dimitri’s hand grasp his own, squeezing tightly as if he didn’t plan to let go. Under other circumstances, it may have made Felix’s heart leap into his throat, but now his heart couldn’t make the jump so high up. 

“I do,” Dimitri answered, shuffling around to pull Felix into more of a sitting position in his arms, his head resting firmly on the soft furs over Dimitri’s shoulder. Dimitri lowered his head to rest their foreheads together. “I know they are. And I am too. But this… this isn’t the end, I swear to you. Hang on a little longer.” 

Felix recognized the pleading in Dimitri’s voice, similar to when they’d had arguments in their youth and he would come asking forgiveness. The fault had always been Felix’s, though. He sighed again. 

“Dima,” he said, his voice almost drowsy. “Dima, my Mitya, go home.” 

_ “Don’t,” _ Dimitri pleaded once more, holding Felix tight enough to bruise. He glanced up for a moment to look around again, but couldn’t bear to look away for too long, training his eyes on Felix’s face once more. “You’re going to be okay. We’re both going home, alright? Just a little longer, Fe, please.”

The nickname echoed in Felix’s ringing ears. Dimitri sounded younger now than he had in years, and Felix was only further reminded of their childhood, of Dimitri apologizing for arguments Felix had started, of bright blue eyes begging for him to play, to spar with him, to stay just a little longer because the sun hadn’t set yet. Felix never stayed, even when he wanted to, for some reason or another. 

He always wanted to stay, especially now, for some reason or another. 

Some shuffling nearby stopped Dimitri from speaking further, and Felix let himself zone out for a moment, closed eyes burning with the kind of exhaustion that seeped into his very bones. The shuffling turned to soft conversation, too distorted for Felix to understand, but it didn’t seem to matter as his body released the last of his held tension, relaxing completely in Dimitri’s arms as a subtle warmth washed over him and everything else faded away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/B4KUGOUAWAY) and peep the awesome [art](https://twitter.com/rrommath/status/1317230711863083008) for this scene :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you told him anything?” Sylvain asked, stepping further into the room to stand by Dimitri’s side. “Or are you going to leave your affections to a kiss on the hand while he’s unconscious?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aftermath of the fight! featuring sylvain, some randos, pregnant merciedue, and sylvain having more than one braincell for once in his life

_ Stable, for now.  _

That’s what Margrite had said after laying her bloodied hands on Felix’s unconscious body. She’d approached just before Felix had gone limp in Dimitri’s arms, just in time to feed him a spell strong enough to close his wounds and keep him alive for the time being. She was the only healer in their party who made it through the fight.

Dimitri didn’t know how long he sat on the ground, clutching Felix’s unconscious form to his chest, before finally rising with a grim determination. It wasn’t too late in the day. If they were swift, they could reach the castle by nightfall. 

“Your Majesty,” Margrite called after him, concern lacing her small voice. “Will we carry on?” 

“Yes,” he responded, approaching his horse, who had run ahead a bit during the battle. Felix’s mount was nowhere to be seen. “We continue, posthaste.” 

He didn’t see her nod behind him, didn’t see her turn and gather the rest of their living to push forward. Upon reaching his horse, a knight appeared at his side, holding Areadbhar in one hand and holding out the other to offer further assistance. Dimitri carefully passed Felix’s body to the knight, then took Areadbhar in hand and climbed atop the horse. 

After securing Areadbhar in its straps, he gestured for the knight to return Felix’s body to him. The knight seemed hesitant, and glanced back towards one of the carts they had on their journey before looking back to Dimitri and beginning to speak.

“My Lord—”

“You will return him to me at once,” he cut the knight off, voice low, commanding. Like hell he’d toss Felix’s body into a cart of random goods from the monastery. Like hell he’d let Felix out of his sight for a moment after this. “I am very capable of handling this myself.” 

The knight made no protest, and helped Dimitri lift Felix’s body up onto the horse. They maneuvered him into a sitting position in front of Dimitri, leaned back against his body as if he were merely sleeping and not unconscious following a nearly fatal wound. Dimitri tried not to think about it, wanting to focus on getting them home, getting Felix to Mercedes, who he trusted more than anyone as a healer. 

It took longer than he would have liked for them to be on their way once more, but he took it in stride, occasionally trying to add a pass of his own weak magic into Felix in hopes of aiding his healing. He didn’t know if it worked at all, but he felt obligated to try. Dimitri had worked hard to overcome his impatience after ascending the throne — things took time, and he knew restlessness would be of no aid to them — but as the moments ticked by, even as they carried on towards Fhirdiad, he found himself growing nervous, almost agitated as they seemed no closer to the castle. 

When the skyline of Fhirdiad began to come into view on the horizon, Dimitri’s heart nearly jumped into his throat. 

“Just a little longer, Felix,” he muttered, spurring on his horse with a nudge of his foot against its haunch. 

Its speed increased bit by bit, encouraged by every following nudge from Dimitri, until it reached a full-fledged gallop towards the city gates. The knights behind Dimitri hesitated, taken aback by his sudden rush forwards, but those also on horses followed swiftly, calling for the others to make their own pace and be mindful. 

“The King has important matters to attend to,” Margrite told them calmly, continuing her walking pace as the others rushed ahead. She thought of Felix, looking small and vulnerable cradled in Dimitri’s arms, and said a quiet prayer to the Goddess. 

With his horse galloping to the city, Dimitri reached the gates quickly. Stationed guards lifted the wrought-iron to let him in upon taking in his face and the unconscious body of Duke Fraldarius on his horse. Someone called for the Margrave to be summoned, and Dimitri thanked them in a rush before thundering past, urging his horse forwards once more. 

Thanks to the guards’ quick thinking to call for Sylvain, Dimitri arrived at the back entrance of the castle and was met with his worried face. 

“Dimitri—” Sylvain began to call out to him, but froze upon seeing Felix, a look of shocked horror overtaking him. “What—”

“Please,” Dimitri began, clumsily unstrapping Areadbhar from himself to let it fall haphazardly on the soft dirt. He needed it out of the way to get off the damn horse. Maybe sometime he’d arrange for a different method of carrying it to be implemented. “Please call for Mercedes.” 

Sylvain hesitated, obviously conflicted at the request, before saying, “She’s on  _ leave _ _,_ Dimitri. She’s going to give birth any day. We can’t just—”

Frustrated tears gathered in Dimitri’s eyes, and he cut Sylvain off with a pleading look as he climbed slowly, carefully, from his horse while managing to keep Felix in place. Once his feet were on the ground, he pulled Felix off, lifting him into his arms once more.

_ “Please,” _ he said, approaching slowly with Felix in his arms. Sylvain’s expression twisted further as he took in Felix’s visage, bloodied and seeming more at peace than he had in years. “Sylvain,  _ please. _ She’ll come if she’s called for. I  _need_ her.  _ Felix  _ needs her.”

That was enough for Sylvain’s shoulders to slump. He raised an arm and a form practically materialized next to him, bowing with one knee on the ground before looking up. The bottom half of their face was concealed with a dark mask, matching the rest of their sleek dark ensemble. A specialized guard, trained specifically in stealth and speed. 

“Please summon Lady Martritz,” he said shortly, nodding his respects to them. “Tell her we are in need of her help, should she be able to provide.” 

The person hummed an affirmation and nodded in response before disappearing once again, the only sign they had been present being the imprint of their knee and shoe in the dirt. Dimitri would have found it impressive if Felix wasn’t… you know. 

“Inside,” Dimitri said, stepping past Sylvain with shaking arms. “Come.” 

Sylvain made sure the guards or some of the arriving knights would attend to Dimitri’s horse before quickly following him inside. Dimitri muttered to himself as he strode through the halls, determined to find Felix somewhere nice to be. His room wasn’t too far, but it was locked by magic only Felix had possession of, so that wouldn’t work. He’d likely be angry if he woke in Dimitri’s rooms… 

A thought came to Dimitri, and he inhaled sharply through his nose before making an abrupt turn down a hallway that was scarcely in use these days. When the royal family flourished, their rooms were all down this hall, close to the King’s quarters but not overly so, allowing for closeness but their own privacy. The room Dimitri had stayed in during his youth was behind one of these doors, likely looking the same as he last saw it — as Felix had last seen it. Maybe he’d find comfort there, somewhere familiar. 

“Here?” Sylvain asked, stepping into the room behind him and watching carefully as Dimitri gently deposited Felix’s body onto the soft, unused furs on the bed. 

“I think he’ll be happier to wake somewhere he knows, somewhere not as impersonal as an infirmary,” Dimitri explained, kneeling by the bedside and taking Felix’s limp hand in his own. He held it to his forehead, muttering a soft prayer between a few measured heavy breaths meant to keep himself from crying once more. 

He looked up at Sylvain to find his gaze soft, the look on his face reminiscent of their youth, when he would observe any number of Dimitri and Felix’s interactions. A faint smile tugged at his lips. 

“He’ll be okay,” Sylvain said, unprompted, and Dimitri looked away once more. “Mercie will fix this.” 

Dimitri nodded, unspeaking, and brought Felix’s hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss there. Sylvain snorted from the doorway.

“What?” Dimitri snapped, frowning.

“Have you told him anything?” Sylvain asked, stepping further into the room to stand by Dimitri’s side. “Or are you going to leave your affections to a kiss on the hand while he’s unconscious?” 

A moment of silence passed between them before Dimitri gently lowered Felix’s hand once more. He stood and turned to Sylvain, who opened his arms and let Dimitri walk into his embrace. Physical affection had never been a big part of the Blue Lions’ friendship, but sometimes Sylvain just knew Dimitri needed it. 

“In your own time, Dima.” Sylvain’s voice softened as he wrapped his arms around Dimitri, giving him a moment of security, of warmth and welcome. Dimitri rested his head on Sylvain’s shoulder, grateful that Sylvain no longer wore armor everyday in favor of furs and brocade that did not jab into him in these moments of respite. 

“I don’t know where I would even begin in explaining my feelings to Felix,” Dimitri admitted with a soft sigh. He returned Sylvain’s embrace a little hesitantly, mentally noting to buy Sylvain replacement clothing since this shirt was sure to have blood smeared on it after their hug. “He’s hated me for so many years.” 

“He didn’t.” Sylvain squeezed Dimitri, chuckling softly. “Maybe he wanted to, maybe he acted like it, but he didn’t. That sharp tongue is more of a guard to him than the Aegis Shield has ever been, and even now he hides behind it when he is uncertain or fearful. And often when he is embarrassed. Otherwise, he has never truly been a needlessly cruel man.” 

Dimitri didn’t respond, merely letting his shoulders droop as Sylvain spoke. He  _ had _ given plenty of reason to be uncertain or fearful of him in the past, especially during the war, when he had lost himself to the ghosts that haunted him since Duscur. Felix had always been the most vocal, the most scrutinizing. The thought made Dimitri’s chest tighten. It had been his fault that Felix found his safety in harsh words, in swords and fists and training sessions that went deep into the night. 

“If you speak, he’ll listen, regardless of the topic,” Sylvain continued, turning his head to press a kiss to Dimitri’s forehead, loving and comforting and so like the elder brother Dimitri wished he had. “He may not react how you’d like him to, but he wouldn’t skewer you on the spot. In your own time, Dimitri, but I think you should use this as a sign. No one lives forever, not even the ridiculously stubborn Felix Hugo Fraldarius, and if you want him to know, you  _will_ have to tell him.” 

Sometimes Dimitri did not like the grown adult Sylvain and the insightful things that spilled from him. Dimitri would not trade the grown adult Sylvain for the troubled teenage Sylvain, but he would greatly appreciate if he wasn’t so  _ right _ all the time. His brain was incredibly helpful in meetings and planning and Dimitri would never repay the debt he felt he owed Sylvain, but sometimes he wished Sylvain could not see through him so well. 

“That was so fucking good,” Sylvain said, barking a laugh. Dimitri let Sylvain pull away from the embrace, calm for the moment, and Sylvain grinned. “I can’t believe that sometimes I open my mouth and smart things come out but then when I try to talk otherwise I sound the same as I did at age ten.” 

“You say smart things all the time,” Dimitri protested, giving his own soft laugh. “Though I do agree sometimes your eloquence leaves you.” 

Sylvain put a hand on his chest, feigning offense, but was cut off before he could retort by a guard stepping into the room. They bowed their hello and stepped aside for a very pregnant Mercedes to come in, followed by Dedue and his ever watchful gaze. 

“Hello Sylvain,” Mercedes chirped, bowing to both Sylvain and Dimitri. “Your Majesty.” 

“Mercedes, thank you for coming,” Dimitri said, all the words coming out in a rush as he came around the bed to greet her with a bow of his own. He hoped it would suffice, seeing as any contact would likely get blood on her and that was not on Dimitri’s to-do list. “I am forever grateful for your kindness and generosity.” 

“Don’t be silly, Dimitri,” she laughed softly and stepped towards him for a hug and a gentle kiss on his cheek. She didn’t even react to the traces of blood coming off on her clothes, her hands, merely turning to focus on Felix on the bed. “Of course I would come! Nothing could stop me when my friends need me.” 

“Oh, Felix,” she hummed, more to herself than anything, raising her hands to hover over him. “You must be more careful.” 

The room fell silent around them as she worked, her hands bathed in holy light as she murmured prayers and thanks to the Goddess. It took a few spells to fix all of the internal damage — the severed veins and torn muscle, the puncture through his large intestine that was mostly healed thanks to Margrite and Dimitri’s constant low-level spell usage — but she had Felix in tip-top shape in no time.

“He’ll need to rest purely because of the trauma his body sustained,” she explained, smiling softly to a very relieved Dimitri. “But he’ll be up and running in no time.” 

“Thank you, Mercedes,” Dimitri and Sylvain both said, bowing their heads in thanks. They glanced at each other with a strange look at their accidental unison but brushed it off. Maybe it was because of their lengthy friendship, but it still caught them off guard whenever they did things at the same time like that.

Mercedes laughed. 

“It’s no problem!” she insisted, patting each of them on the cheek. “You two must be careful as well. I have a feeling I won’t be as readily available in the coming weeks.” She giggled.

Dedue stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Mercedes’s shoulder, the ghost of a smile on his face. Mercedes looked up at him with her own smile, and rested her hand on her bulging belly before turning her smile back to Dimitri and Sylvain.

“I’ll try to come if you really need me, but do take care of yourselves, okay? Tell Felix as well once he wakes. You three and Ingrid really make us worry, you know.” 

Dimitri smiled sheepishly, and Sylvain laughed next to him. 

“We all start malfunctioning when the three of you don’t stop by for long periods of time,” Sylvain said, laughing once more when Dimitri elbowed him. 

“We… will pass on the message,” Dimitri said. “Please be careful on your way home, and do let us know if we can be of any help to you in the coming weeks. Tell Ashe hello as well.” 

Dedue and Mercedes nodded and bid their farewells before leaving once more, escorted by the guard who had come in with them. Dimitri and Sylvain stood in the room alone once more, watching the even rise and fall of Felix’s chest as he breathed easily. They looked at each other and back once more to his body before both heaving great sighs. 

“I told you he’d be okay,” Sylvain said with a chuckle, trying to disguise the minor tremor in his voice. “Told you.”

“That you did,” Dimitri conceded, taking a deep breath. His heart had finally calmed enough for him to catch his breath properly, and his mind suddenly shifted to the troupe he had left behind in his rush to get Felix to the castle. “We should… go check to make sure the rest of the squad arrived safely now.”

Sylvain nodded, reaching over to pat Dimitri on the shoulder, and then they left, leaving Felix to recover peacefully. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” Felix said, voice low. “I’ll… be more careful. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’m sorry.” 
> 
> “Dimitri needs to hear that from you,” Sylvain told him, his voice softening again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter include sylvain groping felix and saying something with the word "boobs" in it and also felix examining himself in the mirror w/ a mention of breasts. also drinking? dimitri gets tipsy. they almost kiss. (they dont)

Felix’s first conscious breath was painful, making his eyes shoot open in surprise as air was forced in and out of his lungs in a rush. Regaining full control over his body and senses was jarring, akin to almost drowning and then flopping onto the beach coughing out seawater. He heaved a few more painful breaths as his pupils dilated and contracted to adjust to the darkness of his environment. 

The ceiling alone was familiar, undoubtedly within the castle walls, and Felix sat up to inspect the room better. A cursory glance brought him beyond the warmth of the soft furs enveloping him; a burning fire across the room diffused the familiar scent of pine through the room, a painting of a vase of vibrant orchids hung above the mantle, a tapestry woven in brilliant blues was pinned on the far left wall — Dimitri’s room. 

His old room, at least, since he stayed in the King’s quarters these days. Felix had spent much of his youth in this room, bent over books of strategy and history alongside his best friends. 

He glanced to the right, to Dimitri’s desk against a dark window. If he thought hard enough about it, he could practically imagine himself and Sylvain cross-legged on the floor, Ingrid’s perfect posture on the edge of the too-big bed, Dimitri’s sigh of annoyance as he reviewed his work. Things had been much different then. 

A twinge of pain pulled him from that pain of thought; a sort of sharpness that faded into a dull ache. He clutched his side with a ragged exhale. Oh, right. He’d been stabbed. He tugged at his clothes, stiff with caked on dried blood, until he could look at his bare abdomen to inspect the tender scar left behind. 

The ache remaining from the wound was one he was very used to — the soreness of a healed injury was something he had felt many times during the war — though this sensation differed slightly from the norm; it ran a little deeper, penetrating through muscle and tissue to leave a dull throbbing that settled deep inside his torso. 

Felix swung his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring his body’s groans of complaint as he stood for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He extended his arms above his head, groaning with each pop of a joint as he straightened out his limbs and spine. Even though the motion tugged at fresh scar tissue, the mild discomfort was nothing compared to the relief of a good stretch. 

He tugged his bloodied shirts off, almost disgusted by the stiffness and lingering metallic smell from the dried blood, and left them in a heap on the floor. They’d get dealt with eventually, and Felix had bigger fish to fry in the moment. 

Silence met him in the hallway when he poked his head out through the door, and he stepped out casually before making his way down the familiar halls towards his own chambers. He wanted a bath and a clean change of clothes before even considering the hungry rumble in his stomach or the headache beginning in his temples. 

Orange-tinted sunlight streamed in through the windows as he went, casting shadows past gauzy curtains and filling the halls with a warm glow. Felix assumed it was late evening, judging by the wash of warm color, but couldn’t remember much about before he’d passed out. How long had he been asleep for? The tight scar on his lower abdomen wasn’t much of a clue, considering how far healing magic could progress wounds — even ones as serious as his. 

He came to a stop in front of his door and lifted a hand to the knob, hesitating for a moment and frowning as he began running through the spell list in his mind for the one that would actually open the door. Security spells like this didn’t really account for instances of exhausted brains. He lifted his other hand and idly waved through a few spell motions. None of them were right though, and he heaved a sigh. 

The mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and even deeper thought distracted Felix just enough that he didn’t notice Sylvain behind him until hands slid under his triceps and came to gently cup his bare chest. The action didn’t startle him nearly as much as it should have, and he merely looked down at the hands and cocked an eyebrow. 

Sylvain hooked his chin over Felix’s shoulder, looking down at his own hands before groping Felix properly — a slow, almost thoughtful squeeze of his pectorals — and hummed. 

“Sylvain…” Felix sighed, trying to inject his normal level of annoyance into the single word. It didn’t come out as bothered as he’d hoped. 

“What’s with these  _ audacious boobs _ _,_ Felix?” Sylvain teased, grinning mischievously when Felix sighed again. “Been working out?” 

“‘Audacious…?’” Felix echoed, looking down at his chest once more. Sure he’d put on a bit more muscle lately, but nothing he’d call  _ audacious _ by any means. 

It took him a moment to realize Sylvain was fucking with him. He scowled. 

“Does your wife know you’re off touching other men?” he deadpanned, turning his glare properly to look at Sylvain. 

“Of course,” Sylvain said, groping Felix once more before sliding his hands down to rest lightly over his hips. “I write her a letter every time I do something like this just to be sure she’s aware.” 

With another sigh, Felix traced another arcane shape over his door and was finally rewarded with the familiar  _ click _ of the lock turning. Success. 

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, gently elbowing Sylvain in the abdomen before turning to look at him properly. 

A proper look at Sylvain made Felix frown again. The beginnings of dark circles filled out under his eyes, and his grin, though present, was not nearly as blinding as usual. He looked tired.

“Have you not been sleeping?” 

“No, I have,” Sylvain assured him, dropping his hands to his side once Felix moved. He reached up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck. “You… should go see Dimitri, if you’ve got a moment.”

Felix’s brows twitched upwards, as if surprised by the statement. Surely Dimitri hadn’t been causing problems while Felix had been unconscious, had he? The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that Dimitri was spiraling into a dark place again, probably blaming himself for Felix’s injury even though he’d made the choice himself. Foolish. 

“You’ll see him at dinner regardless,” Sylvain continued, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his overcoat for a pocket watch he’d picked up somewhere in the south during a reconstruction trip. “Which is in roughly forty-five minutes, if you’re hungry.” 

As if waiting to be announced, Felix’s stomach gurgled. The timing of it all made his head hurt a little more somehow. Had he become comedic relief by getting injured? 

“Tell him I said to stop being troublesome,” Felix said, turning once more to step into his now open door. “And that I’ll see him at dinner and will scold him myself if he’s having a tantrum.” 

“Can do.” Sylvain nodded, smiling softly, genuinely, before reaching out as if he planned to pat Felix on the shoulder. Instead, his direction changed abruptly, and he slapped Felix’s fresh scar with the back of his hand. 

It wasn’t a hard hit, but it still pushed the air from Felix’s lungs with the sharp twinge of pain it caused at the tender spot. Felix inhaled shakily before exhaling again with a small wheeze.

“What the fuck?” 

“Don’t do something stupid like this again,” Sylvain said, his expression stiffening. “I know it was stupid because you only ever get hurt in stupid ways. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know you’re smarter than this.” 

Felix looked away from him, casting his gaze inside his room instead. It made him angry that Sylvain felt the need to scold him for it, but he knew it meant Dimitri wasn’t handling it well. These days Sylvain didn’t get those dark circles on his own; usually he owed any physical signs of his stress to specific external forces, like his children and Dorothea, but more often Dimitri and Felix. 

“It’s been two days.” 

This made Felix look back at him again, his own hard expression falling into something more remorseful. He had forgotten to ask how long it had been with Sylvain’s sudden appearance and typical handsy behavior distracting him. 

“I’m sorry,” Felix said, voice low. “I’ll… be more careful. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’m sorry.” 

“Dimitri needs to hear that from you,” Sylvain told him, his voice softening again. “Even with it healed, even with you breathing evenly, he… worried you wouldn’t wake up. You know how he is.” 

A beat of silence passed between them, ending with Felix clearing his throat lightly before saying, “I’ll see you both at dinner.” 

He closed the door between them and pressed his back against it, sinking down into a squat with a sigh. He’d been so absentminded lately, easily distracted, unfocused. Even if he didn’t hold nearly as much responsibility as Sylvain or Dimitri, that was no excuse to let his mind wander so much, to be so forgetful. 

His body protested the position, and the dull ache that washed over him was enough encouragement to make him stand once more. On the way to the small washroom attached to his chambers, he haphazardy tugged off the rest of his clothes, eager to be out of blood-stiffened pants and into a bath. Absently, he waved a hand at the porcelain tub against the far wall, relaxing minutely as warm water began to fill it, and then turned to his reflection in the mirror. 

It wasn’t often that Felix had the urge to examine himself so closely. His appearance was acceptable at a passing glance, and that was usually all he needed. This time he wanted to inspect himself, starting with the fresh pucker of skin above his right hip, stark in contrast to his pallid complexion and spattering of old scars.

He traced a few of the silvered scars on himself; a thin line around his throat from where someone had used piano wire as a make-shift choking implement, one across his deltoid from a broken minded Dimitri thinking he was an assassin sent after him long ago, the two under his pectorals from having his breasts removed before the war. They decorated the canvas of his skin, telling stories of his life like legends passed on by hearsay, not quite right but not entirely false. He spared a thought, briefly, to consider how the stories of these scars would differ coming from Sylvain’s mouth compared to his. Who would tell the stories right? Who  _ could? _

Shaking his head to clear away his musings, Felix slipped into his bathtub, sinking into the water up to his nose. The warmth was comforting, relaxing in a way he had anticipated on his way to his room, and he could feel the tension of the last few days just melt away as he soaked. There had always been something rewarding about washing off the grime of battle, something about washing away the experience, cleansing your hands after taking life. 

Felix sank completely under the water, and remained under until he was out of breath. 

As he broke the surface once more, he sighed heavily, utterly content in his bath for the moment. He didn’t want to think about seeing Dimitri again, didn’t want to think about the repercussions of his foolishness. Maybe he could just melt completely into the water and slip down the drain, he felt boneless enough that he could probably be sucked away as he emptied the bath. 

But he couldn’t do that, of course; he had a meal to attend, a king to pacify. The comfort of a bath couldn’t last forever. It was with that thought that he drug himself from the water to dry and dress himself to the level acceptable of a man with the title of Duke Fraldarius. 

🍾

It wasn’t long before Felix was leading a drunken Dimitri down the castle halls, his brow furrowed as he let Dimitri’s weight lean against him. Getting Dimitri out of the banquet hall wasn’t as much of an ordeal as it could have been, but the flushed face of the King in a too-loose poet blouse exposing a good half of his chest was seared into Felix’s mind after it all. He was sure Sylvain would be complaining the next day about how much nipple was clearly visible the longer Dimitri was allowed to wallow in his wine (and Felix was a little peeved he didn’t get to wallow as well).

He was also sure if they’d let Dimitri stay any longer, he would have taken the damn shirt off entirely, purely because he was getting too warm. 

Next time they would have to monitor how much he drinks. And maybe how he dresses, as well. The dinner had turned into a small affair celebrating their successful discussions with Byleth upon Felix’s waking, but the less people getting flashes of The Royal Bosom in the future, the better. 

_ "Goddess, _ Dimitri,” Felix huffed, one arm tight around Dimitri’s waist, the other hand holding Dimitri’s arm over his shoulders. “You really shouldn’t drink so much. You’re fucking heavy.” 

Dimitri grinned at him, smiling an almost goofy smile before slurring, “but you’re still shouldering me.”

“It’s my  _ job _ _,_ dumbass,” Felix huffed, growing slightly irritated with Dimitri’s behavior. Dimitri didn’t drink often, so why did he have to do it today? Felix was still exhausted after the fight the day before, aching to his bones with bruises that were sure to darken further over the next day and be general nuisances in his day-to-day life, even if his biggest wound was healed. 

“Doesn’t have t’be,” Dimitri continued, leaning heavily against Felix and making him stumble a bit under the weight. “Gave up the land, didn’t have t’ keep the title. But you’re here! Duke Fraldirus. Handsome ‘n’ strong.” 

Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes. He never pegged Dimitri to be a ridiculous drunk — he’d never been in the past — but here he was spouting bullshit. As if Felix could have done anything but take the title. As if he could have left Dimitri’s side after so many years. 

“Handsome ‘n’ strong, strong ‘n’ handsome,” Dimitri babbled, leaning his head down to speak closer to Felix’s ear. “So handsome, so strong. Can’t believe... took me this long t’ tell you how good looking you are…” 

Felix tensed a bit, but tried to force himself to relax as he continued down the familiar hallways to Dimitri’s chambers. He didn’t fluster easily, but something about how loose-lipped Dimitri was, how open he was being about his thoughts made Felix flush. He grimaced at the warmth filling his face. Stupid. 

“I guess you’re drunker than I thought,” he muttered, slightly adjusting Dimitri’s weight against him with a sigh. 

“Untrue!” Dimitri argued, that goofy grin melting into the pout of a petulant child. He stopped in his tracks, straightening up considerably and frowning at Felix. “I have… total brain control… right now.” 

He extended his arms as if presenting his ability to stand up straight as proof of control over his mental faculties, but wobbled a little, and Felix stepped forward to hold onto him once more. Again, Felix draped Dimitri’s arm over his shoulders and began shepherding him towards his chambers again. The door wasn’t too far away, and Felix felt a sense of relief in knowing he could put Dimitri to bed and  _ leave _ _._

Dimitri followed easily, led like a puppy on a leash, but stopped again just a few feet from his door. Felix groaned his displeasure and shot Dimitri a glare only to be met with a much more serious face than he expected. 

“What is it?” he asked, placing a hand gently on Dimitri’s bicep. “Dimitri?” 

He let out an embarrassing yelp when Dimitri grabbed his arm and pushed his back against the wall, eyes widening in surprise. Dimitri was clearly intoxicated; how did he manage to catch Felix off guard like that? 

“Wh-What are you—” He began to ask, but cut himself off when Dimitri took one, two steps closer to him, almost pressing against him. Felix could feel the heat radiating off his body in the chilly corridor, and shuddered, casting his gaze to the floor in hopes it would obscure the inevitable blush on his cheeks.

Dimitri crowded Felix up against the wall by the door and leaned down to nuzzle against his neck. His free hand lifted sluggishly, before ghosting over Felix’s torso, over the fully healed stab wound. The light touch made Felix shudder again at the memory, the phantom pain of a sword stuck too far to come back from without the help of magic. He tried not to dwell on that part. 

“Thought… thought I lost you, Fe.” 

Felix tensed, unused to this kind of affection from anyone, let alone Dimitri _ ,  _ but he didn’t move. It wasn’t unpleasant. He tried to relax, but every puff of Dimitri’s breath against his neck set his every nerve alight, until his entire body was buzzing with  _ DimitriDimitriDimitri. _

After a moment, Felix raised his arms to clutch at the back of Dimitri’s stupid, too-thin blouse in the poorest attempt at an embrace he had ever had the gall to be involved with. Even worse than him grasping Dimitri’s arms, bleeding out in his lap in the middle of some field outside of Fhirdiad. 

His heart pounded in his chest as Dimitri lingered close to him, every moment making him feel as though Dimitri was planning to keep him there, pressed against the wall. He found he really wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Dimitri was warm and familiar, broad and sturdy like the castle’s rock walls. If he was going to be stuck somewhere… 

Well, home wasn’t a bad place to be. 

A mumble in the crook of his neck pulled Felix from that particular train of thought, and he shifted slightly on his feet before saying, “I can’t hear you. You’ll have to come out of there to speak.” 

The mumble came again, this time slightly more intelligible as Dimitri turned his head just a little, probably solely to make himself audible once more. 

“Said I wanna kiss you,” he said, voice soft. 

Felix felt the slightest press of lips against his neck, as if Dimitri was trying to add some emphasis. The foreign sensation made that buzzing under Felix’s skin intensify, and he huffed out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding after hearing Dimitri’s confession. 

“Can I?” Dimitri asked, speaking directly against Felix’s neck and punctuating himself with another solid kiss over Felix’s pulse point. 

He pulled back to look Felix in the eyes, straight-faced regardless of his alcohol-induced flush. 

“Do you want to kiss me too?” he asked, leaning in until their noses were touching and their breaths mingling in the short distance between them. 

Felix, honestly, didn’t know what he wanted. Usually his reaction would be a swift and confident  _ no _ _,_ but… what if he did want to kiss Dimitri? His chest squeezed at the idea. 

_ Oh no, _ he thought, gripping Dimitri’s shirt a little harder before squeezing his eyes closed. He did want to kiss Dimitri. His nerves fluttered in him like butterflies in his stomach, but felt secure in Dimitri’s grasp, felt safe, felt like he was meant to be there.  _ Oh no. _

But instead of just kissing him and getting it done with, Dimitri promptly fell forward, his face finding a home once again in the crook of Felix’s neck. His entire body slumped heavily against Felix, and Felix’s eyes shot open, confusion and panic rushing through him before he heard a gentle, even snore. 

Had Dimitri… fallen asleep? 

And at such a pivotal moment! 

Felix wanted to scream. He could feel the heat of his own blush lingering in his cheeks, could hear his blood pumping in his ears. And Dimitri  _ fell asleep? _

He groaned loudly, letting it echo through the empty hallway, and then maneuvered himself to be able to pull Dimitri’s useless flesh-sack of a body into his own chambers. It was easy enough for him to yank Dimitri into the room and dump him unceremoniously on his too-big bed. He took no further action before leaving, too frustrated to care about Dimitri’s boots on his bed, the headache he’d inevitably have in the morning.

As far as he was concerned, those weren’t his issues to deal with, and Dimitri deserved to face every consequence for his actions. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh warnings for this one . a bad dream involving dead people. dimitri minor hangover. felix being a brat to sylvain. uh.

Dimitri found himself in a forest clearing, alone with his thoughts in a way that made shivers run down his spine. Corpses lay spread about the dirt, some familiar in face, others familiar in armor. A thick, cloud-like fog filled the space around him, obscuring the bodies he’d watched fall mere days before and replacing them with familiar silhouettes, those he had lost even longer ago.

_ Dimitri,  _ one voice called to him, hoarse with pain.  _ You’ll be okay. _

“Father…” Dimitri mumbled, trying to turn towards the voice. “Father?”

_ You really do look just like His Majesty,  _ the next said, tender and loving even with a knife plunged into his abdomen. 

“Rodrigue,” Dimitri called, turning once more in the fog, searching aimlessly for those he had lost. 

_ Don’t be scared,  _ another said, one that made Dimitri’s throat burn with the onset of tears.  _ Everything will be alright, Dima. _

Dimitri choked on the name, ever burdened by Glenn’s death even now. He had grown past the haunting, the days when these voices cried cruelties and demanded penance, but sometimes the tender words of reassurance burned more than any wound a knife or arrow could inflict. 

_Boar,_ another voice called for him coldly; one Dimitri feared would join the rest one day.  _ Are you pleased now that we’ve all fallen in your stead? _

“No!” Dimitri answered quickly, his good eye darting about the fog desperately in search of the source of the voice. “No, Felix, please. This wasn’t what I wanted!” 

A figure stepped into focus, long hair falling around his face like a dark waterfall, eyes unfocused and unseeing, a long gash across the abdomen leaving a trail of blood and viscera as he moved. The injured form of Felix raised a hand towards Dimitri, as if calling for him, and Dimitri dashed towards him without hesitation.

Dimitri reached for Felix’s outstretched hand, desperate to grab him and hold him close, frantically hoping to save him. The moment their fingers touched, a sudden torrent of rain poured from the sky, immediately dispersing the fog and taking the silhouettes of his loved ones with it. Felix’s bleeding form vanished as well, leaving Dimitri to fall to his knees in the mud, haunted and surrounded again by the bodies of those he failed to protect. 

🛏

The moment he realized he was awake, Dimitri shot into a sitting position, though the immediate pounding in his temples made him regret the movement entirely. He groaned lowly, wiping the crusty sleep-goo from his eyes before slowly opening his good one. 

Early morning light filtered in through the gauzy curtains of his room, casting everything in a nice spring warmth. The soft sound of birdsong reached him, more pleasant than painful to his tired ears, and he yawned heavily. 

Slowly, the rest of the world came to him — including but not limited to him being fully clothed in bed save for his eyepatch, which he found cast onto the floor, and the souring taste of wine in the back of his mouth. That explained everything he needed to know. 

He rose for the day and stretched, relishing in the way his bones popped, but not in the way his head ached with the movements. As he walked to the washroom, he made a note to never drink again, though it was surely a thought he would forget the next time he was offered a sweet smelling wine. And while being hungover was burdensome, he could only imagine the trouble he made for someone the previous night—

He froze halfway into the automatic process of washing his face and stared into his reflection in the mirror above his wash basin for a moment as the blurry memories of the night came to him. 

“Oh, Goddess, no,” he groaned, head drooping. Had he really… to  _ Felix _ _…_? 

Suddenly his hangover was the least of his problems. 

He looked back up, meeting his own eye in the mirror and nodding to himself firmly. This would require fixing, he decided, and that meant he needed to get Felix to sit down and talk with him. Suddenly every instance of Dimitri ever needing to patch something up with Felix in this way flashed through his mind, leaving him rather dejected after they all passed. 

Felix was adept at many things; fighting, swordsmanship, reckless strategy, and avoiding things were among the top ten. When he intended to be difficult to talk to, he followed through well, busying himself more than usual just to say he was busy when whoever was trying to talk to him. Dimitri knew this well, and the only ray of sunshine peeking through in his head was the fact that Sylvain was meant to be heading back to Gautier soon. 

Until then, he knew Felix would be glued to their friend’s side, unmoving solely to avoid any one-on-one conversation about… this. 

Dimitri hung his head and sighed once more before turning on his heel and dressing before heading out into the castle for the day. 

⚔

The end of the day found Dimitri approaching the back entrance of the castle, exhausted from the day’s duties and almost not looking forward to seeing Sylvain off. The only upside to Sylvain leaving was that it would make it marginally easier for Dimitri to get Felix alone to talk to him, but it almost felt like an unfair trade given how useful Sylvain proved to be during the tedious meetings Dimitri sat through day after day. 

Voices gently floated through the open entrance as Dimitri approached, quickly recognized as Felix and Sylvain arguing about something outside, and Dimitri pressed up against the wall near the large open doors to try to pick up on what was going down. 

“Do you  _ have _ to go?” Felix asked, his voice bordering on the high-pitched begging he had resorted to in his youth. The memory made Dimitri grin ever so slightly. 

“Yes, I  _ have _ to go, Felix,” Sylvain responded with a small sigh. Dimitri could practically hear his eyes rolling. “Unlike you, I now have a massive territory to look after. Dorothea can only do so much in her state, you know. Soon the time will come when I won’t be here for months at a time. I’ll only be gone for three weeks. Get used to it.”

“I  _ am _ used to it,” Felix protested. There was the brief sound of shuffling feet on the dirt floor, and something heavy being placed on a cart before Felix spoke again. “I’ll do anything, though, seriously. Do you guys need a babysitter?”

“No,” Sylvain said, definitive. “And you two don’t either. Just  _ talk _ to him, for the love of the Goddess. You two get worse every time I blink, I swear.”

_ “Sylvain,” _ Felix broke out a full-fledged whine, so reminiscent of his childhood. “I don’t  _ want _ to.”

And Dimitri saw it clearly in his mind, the image of Felix stomping one foot on the ground as an ill-tempered child, unhappy for this reason or that. The nostalgia made his heart swell. It had been ages since he’d seen Felix petulant; the fact that he was comfortable enough these days to bring out that pettish side of himself once more was enough of a sign to Dimitri that Felix was faring well, healing from his past, overcoming the pit of loathing he had dug himself in their youth. It meant he was happy, he felt safe. 

“Felix…” Sylvain’s voice was soft, tender even, and accompanied by the soft shuffling of movement. 

Dimitri chanced a peek through the door, hoping to remain unseen, and couldn’t help the little smile on his face as he saw Sylvain and Felix hugging, with Felix’s face buried in Sylvain’s shoulder. Sylvain just barely caught the movement of Dimitri’s head popping in and smiled at him before returning his attention to Felix, patting his back softly. 

“We’re not children anymore, Fe,” Sylvain said, turning on his wise older brother mode. “You can’t make it go away by asking if you can come to my house. This isn’t Glenn refusing you a sword trick — this is people’s feelings. Your feelings. You can’t run from them forever, especially not when your station is at his side.” 

Felix mumbled something into Sylvain’s nice overcoat that made Sylvain laugh, and Dimitri’s shoulders slumped, feeling like he’d missed out on some grand secret. 

“Listen here, you big baby,” Sylvain laughed, cupping Felix’s cheeks in both hands and making him look him in the eye. “I have to go be with my pregnant wife and manage a huge territory that you left in my hands  _ and _ try to slide in some time for continuing parleys with Sreng. I think you can handle some emotional turmoil while I’m away.”

Felix’s responding whine was loud enough for Dimitri to hear from the doorway. Again, he had a vivid image in his mind of Felix’s whole body slumping, making Sylvain’s hands squish his face. 

“You’ll have plenty of things to think about while I’m gone anyway. Like those negotiations with Claude in a week?” Sylvain looked unamused, as if he already knew Felix had forgotten. “There will surely be enough for you to attend to so that you can ignore whatever is happening in here.”

Sylvain poked Felix on the forehead, and Felix huffed out a resigned exhale, signaling the end of the conversation. Dimitri had been on the receiving end of that sigh many times, and hardly ever over something childish like this. He ducked around to hide again before Felix could turn to see him. 

After a moment, he straightened himself up and stepped properly into the doorway, putting on a smile to see Sylvain off even though he never liked to watch him go. 

“Oh, it is a relief to see you’re still here!” He called, obviously laying it on a little thick in hopes that Sylvain wouldn’t call him out for his eavesdropping. “I was worried you would have been off before I made it to say my farewells.”

Felix turned to look at him with a poorly concealed sneer, and Sylvain rolled his eyes as he met Dimitri’s gaze. 

“Of course,” Sylvain said, smiling. “As if I could bear to leave without saying goodbye to my two dear children.” 

He swung an arm around Felix’s neck and pulled him close, then repeated the motion with Dimitri once he was near enough. 

“Now, kids, you have to promise to behave while I’m gone,” he continued, speaking in the same tone he used with his actual children. “You know the rules; no fighting, no swords or magic in the house.” 

“Shut  _ up,” _ Felix groaned, pushing out of Sylvain’s hold easily and stumbling to the side once he got his feet under himself again. He huffed a little sigh and brushed his bangs from his face. “I’ve said my goodbye. Farewell. Good riddance. Don’t come back soon.” 

Sylvain rolled his eyes once more and released his hold around Dimitri’s neck. Dimitri laughed and enveloped Sylvain in a proper hug. 

“Give my love to Hannah and Glenn,” he said softly, pulling back to smile at Sylvain, looking over his face as if it might be the last time. “And give my well-wishes to Dorothea, as well.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Sylvain ducked into a dramatic bow, not nearly as graceful as usual in his armor. “We’ll write. I’m sure the kids will love to recount all of their adventures to send off to their Uncle Mitri.” 

Dimitri’s smile softened, imagining Sylvain at the dinner table with his kids telling him all about what they’d been up to while he was gone. He could vividly picture Hannah, the eldest, with her sparkling green eyes and missing front teeth, going on about Glenn, excitable and adventurous at the age of 3, stumbling upon a family of cats and young kittens in the estate garden and taking them chunks of baked chicken from his dinner. 

The pair were rambunctious and energetic, and Dimitri had been endeared from birth, showering them in love since their very first meetings. His love for them grew with every passing year. He couldn’t even imagine how his adoration would only increase when the third would come into the world in the following months. 

“I will be more than pleased to read of them in the coming weeks, then,” Dimitri said, still smiling as he stepped back from Sylvain. “Travel safely. Good luck in your endeavors. Send word should you need us.” 

Sylvain nodded, returning the smile and nodding his final farewell before mounting his horse and taking his leave. 

Dimitri turned to address Felix once Sylvian was gone, but found himself alone in the back courtyard. 

💢

It took longer than he would have liked after that to have a moment to speak with Felix alone. Apparently Dimitri misjudged how desperate Felix was to avoid discussing what Dimitri had said to him. He was more than content to busy himself with menial tasks around the castle, often volunteering himself to help before the call for assistance had even sounded. 

They spent entire days after Sylvain’s departure playing whatever cat and mouse game Felix had turned their lives into. It wasn’t until three days passed that Dimitri finally grabbed Felix in a spare moment and cornered him in a far hallway once things had settled down for the evening.

“Do you know how hard it is to get a moment alone with you?” Dimitri asked, straight faced and clearly unamused. Felix instinctually shrunk away from him, as if he could be absorbed into the stone walls and taken away. 

Dimitri backed off a bit, allowing Felix the room to leave if he so chose to. He crossed his hands behind his back and leaned against the opposite wall. Heaving a heavy sigh, he cast his gaze to the ground, suddenly regretful of his initial harsh action and tone. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, casting his gaze to the ground as to not make Felix uncomfortable with any additional eye-contact or that bad staring habit. Dimitri cleared his throat before continuing. “F-for, uh, the other night, when I was drunk. Thank you for helping me to my room, but, um, I know my behavior was—”

Felix stepped forward and covered Dimitri’s mouth with both hands to stop him before he could say anymore, but when he turned his head, his mumble was lost on Dimitri’s ears. Dimitri blinked down at him with a soft hum of confusion.

“I  _ said _ _…_ Ask me when you’re  _ sober.”  _

Dimitri’s breath caught in his throat. 

He must have misheard, right? That had to be it. Felix would never—

“Breathe, damn you!” Felix barked, moving one hand to slam his palm into Dimitri’s stomach. 

The action certainly worked the way Felix wanted, knocking the air from Dimitri’s lungs and forcing him to take another breath in. A subtle ache rippled from the spot Felix’s hand had connected with. 

“You’re an easy target like this,” Felix noted, almost absently. His fingers rested softly on the expensive silk of Dimitri’s shirt underneath his coat. “At least wear leathers under, you fool. If I had been a sword, you’d likely be dead.”

“And  _you_ would likely be in jail,” Dimitri retorted with a small chuckle. 

“Good thing I’m not a sword, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.” 

A beat of silence passed before Dimitri asked, “I suppose it wouldn’t count if I asked now, then?”

Felix shook his head, then stepped aside with all his typical cat-like grace. A poorly concealed smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, a teasing taste of an expression Dimitri had craved to see as often as possible. 

“Don’t rush it,” Felix lilted, flashing a little more of that smile Dimitri so desired. “It has to be organic. When the moment feels right. In your own time.”

Dimitri raised an eyebrow at the last line, a line he had last heard from Sylvain when Felix lay bloody and wounded on the bed in Dimitri’s childhood room. He watched Felix step back out to go find more work to do, and then gave an exasperated chuckle once he was alone. 

When had everyone grown so much? he wondered, still leaning against the cool stone wall. Had Ingrid grown wise as well and he’d just missed it? Had they always been so much wiser than him? 

Dimitri sighed to himself and dropped into a squat where he stood. His heart, though beating strongly, was much calmer than he expected after such a turn of events. At best he had expected Felix would be unhappy with him; at worst he expected disgust, or the return of that hatred Felix had for him during and just before the war. 

_ Ask me when you’re sober, _ he had said. 

The sudden peal of laughter out of himself startled Dimitri, and he stood once more with the exhale of another incredulous half-chuckle. Ask when he’s sober. In his own time. 

Shaking his head to himself, Dimitri stepped from the hallway as well. Shoulders squared as if off to battle, he all but marched to his next meeting, some boring negotiation for something or other with some noble he had never cared for. He told himself he would try his best to take it as seriously as any other diplomatic mission, but he knew he could make no promises with the weight of promise in Felix’s words to him. 

_ Ask me when you’re sober.  _

_And if I do, what then?_ Dimitri thought, smiling to himself all the way to the assigned meeting room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is all ill be posting for today! other chapters will follow on sundays 💙 
> 
> remember you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/B4KUGOUAWAY) and there's [art](https://twitter.com/rrommath/status/1317230711863083008) that goes along with this fic!! thanks for your time 💙


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude seemed incredibly enthusiastic about celebrating anything at any given moment, judging by the hustle and bustle Felix could hear as he returned to his current room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god its almost like i was supposed to have this whole thing posted already. fucking wild right. 
> 
> anyway heres politics and almyra?? almyra and the party are based off this dimiclaude fic i read once but iiiiii am too lazy to try to find it rn. also a bath scene and a reveal about dorovain that i put in solely cos i wanted sylvain and claude to kith. enjoy.

The days passed, and Felix waited. 

And Felix waited.

And then everything seemed to happen at once around them. 

First news came of Mercedes giving birth to not one, but two healthy babies — a boy and a girl, one with Ashe’s pale complexion and freckles, the other with Dedue’s darker skin and white hair.  _ A gift from the Goddess, _ Mercedes had said when Dimitri and Felix went to visit following the birth. Felix looked at the children with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over his chest, but his stony exterior couldn’t help but crack when Dimitri had one of the children in his arms, showing the little girl to Felix as if she were something far too precious for words. 

Then it seemed like the entire world was at their doorstep, come to discuss treaties and policies and whatever drivel Felix would have to mediate. Claude’s arrival was, of course, anticipated, but an abrupt letter from Byleth announcing an intent to visit as well was a bit out of left field. To have another King and the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros as their guests was no great burden to them, but Felix did wish Sylvain hadn’t gone when he found himself the King’s only present advisor. 

Claude as King of Almyra wasn’t all too different from Claude as Duke-successor of the Alliance. He walked with a confident ease, entering any room trailed by a bored-looking Hilda and the smiling face of Balthus, who seemed more eager to start a fight than to sit for political negotiations. Typically, Felix would have indulged in sparring with different people, but as Dimitri’s right hand, he had work to do, much to his chagrin. 

Though Claude did speak a little differently; there was an authority to his voice that hadn’t been there before, seeming to have replaced most of his jokes and easy-going attitude. Dimitri matched him beat-for-beat as they spoke, comfortable with an old friend regardless of the potential for tension, and Felix watched carefully from Dimitri’s side, looking over paperwork and keeping an ear out for discrepencies. 

The treaty Claude proposed was simple enough; opening trade routes through Fodlan’s Throat, allowing for easier travel and commerce between the two nations. It was not a treaty which required much thought from either side of the conversation, something easy enough for two people who believed there was no reason for difficulty. 

Hilda’s family still held control over Fodlan’s Throat — even while she, herself, held some sort of position in Almyra in Claude’s court — and she was quick to assure everyone that Holst had already agreed with them and would see that the transition was quick. 

“The problem we’re going to face here,” Felix began, joining into the conversation properly after Hilda’s statement. “Is not the people in positions of power. Most of our classmates have either assumed their place in their family’s territory or deferred it to another. We can all agree to this treaty easily, and yet the people may not agree.”

Claude raised an eyebrow at his sudden entrance to the talks.

“Yes, we are aware the resistance comes not from Dimitri or me, but from those we govern,” he said, resting his elbows on the table and raising his hands to rest his chin in his palms. “I believe the elderly in particular will be most insistent in their ways, but they are sure to die off at some point.” 

Felix scowled at the casual smile Claude flashed him.

“Shitty ideals are often hereditary.” He glanced towards a few of the older people in the room, mainly members of Claude’s court, but a few of the dwindling elders amongst those who govern land in Fodlan. “If the people in the room right now distrust or dislike the other nation, announcing friendship will not dismantle that. This is not settling an argument of five minutes ago, this is something that burns between us for years.”

“The treaty in its current state is not meant to be final, Duke Fraldarius,” Claude said, staring at Felix through faintly narrowed eyes, as if unamused. “I have listed my desires here, and we go from this point together to balance the scales between us and brainstorm implementation. You are not a stupid man, and yet you bring up generational prejudices you assume I am not already aware of.” 

“Don’t forget, Felix.” Claude smiled at him once more, vaguely threatening. “I spent some of my life in Fodlan. I am more than familiar.” 

“For the love of—” Hilda stood abruptly, slamming both of her hands down onto the table. “I  _ told _ you two we should save most of this for tomorrow. You’re acting worse than I did with Lysithea when we were in school. You fools are far too hopped up on the overwhelming amounts of testosterone in the room. Go spar or something, you snippy bitches." 

Felix frowned wholly at her, ever annoyed by her ostentatiousness and general attitude. Claude and Dimitri seemed to agree, though, and stood as well, however with less noise.

“Hilda’s right,” Claude sighed, shaking his head as if admitting it pained him. He smiled at Dimitri and Felix once more, this time warmly, in a manner much more familiar. “I’m just over eager, honestly.” 

“Not a problem,” Dimitri said, stepping around the table and patting Claude’s shoulder with one hand. “I must admit, I am rather excited as well. There are many opportunities ahead. But you must still be tired, you only arrived yesterday! Let us convene for the day and start once more when the Professor has joined us.” 

Felix sighed heavily, wiping a hand over his face as everyone began filing out of the room behind Claude and Dimitri. He heard something from one of them about leisure time activities in Fodlan, and needed to mentally prepare himself for doing fuckall with these people for the rest of the day. Even once everyone had left, he stayed sitting there, fighting against a veritable cocktail of emotion in his chest that he didn’t really want to deal with; a dash of frustration, a smidgeon of impatience. He sighed again. 

🕊

Discussions started again once Byleth joined them in the following days, but with far less of Felix’s interjections. The three seemed to be very serious in discussing the treaty and implementation, and he didn’t feel stepping in was necessary, though he did listen as intently as ever, just in case he found something irksome as they went. Byleth was very no-nonsense about it all, hoping to solidify something quickly to get in place, with all the same seriousness he’d displayed since the first time they met. 

Again, Felix was grateful for Byleth’s simplicity and straightforward way of thinking. Merely a few more days passed until Claude and his fellows were on their way once more, though the impending future weighed heavily on Felix’s mind.

“In a month,” Claude said at their last meeting. “Come to Almyra. We’ll sign the document there and have a little celebration. I’ve been wanting you to visit for the longest time anyway. If you come up with any more ideas, jot them down beforehand. We’ll have a final meeting before drafting the official documents and go from there, yeah?” 

And so a trip to Almyra loomed before them, imposing like an opponent Felix could not best in battle. Travel had never been his favorite thing; always preferring the destination over the journey in any of his endeavors. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to the trip, though he was curious about the other nation. The one thing he knew to expect was heat, trading in the chilled temperatures he was used to in favor of arid and dry. He wasn’t thrilled about that either. 

Regardless of his hesitation towards the trip, it approached, and with it came a million preparations to make in advance. Sylvain would be joining them for the trip, leaving the city under the careful watch of a few of the lower ranked nobles hanging about, including Ashe coming off two months of parental leave. 

“Don’t be so tense,” Sylvain said to Felix more than once during their month of preparation. “It’s not like we’re shipping off to war again.”

Felix thought war might have been easier to cope with. 

☀

Honestly, Felix was not difficult to please in terms of weather. The former nation of Faerghus was chilly and Garreg Mach had been temperate, much to his pleasure, but he knew the south of Almyra was a different beast entirely. 

The portion of their journey in Fodlan was not unpleasant, save for a bit of time they spent skirting past Aillel just close enough to be uncomfortably warm as they passed from Galatea territory and into Daphnel. Even though the area they were travelling on at that point was still mild in temperature, Felix felt as though he had not known peace since before they had even gotten into Daphnel.

After passing through Fodlan’s Throat, they were finally,  _ finally _ in Almyra, passing from the familiar territories of Fodlan into places unexplored by any of them. The capital was another two or three days' travel from the Throat, eastward further and south into the hotter parts of the country.

He rode ahead of most of their travelling group, keeping a keen eye on the unfamiliar surroundings as they advanced towards their destination. For the most part he was left alone, though occasionally Sylvain caught up to him to be bothersome about some arbitrary thing or another. Felix merely humored him as he spoke, nodding along without really paying good attention. His thoughts were elsewhere. 

Not much had… progressed in the situation with Dimitri. Claude and Byleth and travel had been too demanding; they had barely even said hello to one another over the past weeks. 

At one point, Dimitri came to ride at Felix’s side, and he found himself nervous because of this — not expectant, but nervous. He spared a glance at Dimitri to his right, but looked away immediately, uncertain of what would kill him first: the heat or Dimitri’s blinding smile shining with all the strength of the sun bearing down on them. 

The smile would probably be his undoing over anything. 

Thankfully, Dimitri did not expect conversation from him, simply filling their shared silence with occasional notes of interesting landmarks they passed and even rarer instances of excitement or nerves regarding their visit. Dimitri had mainly stayed in Fhirdiad since the end of the war — he briefly made a journey back south to Enbarr when the unification of Fodlan was cemented and reconstruction had begun, but his duty kept him northward — and he shared some minor worries with Felix as they went. He worried about Fhirdiad, about the small council he had left in charge, and he worried about Almyra, about how they would be received and what customs they needed to pick up on quickly. 

Felix found it rather endearing, listening more intently as Dimitri spoke than he did for Sylvain. The journey seemed to pass quickly with Dimitri at his side. He felt nerves similar to Dimitri’s grow in his belly when they were met by Claude and his fellows at the capital’s gates. 

They were led to the palace with little fanfare, and brought to lodgings that made the trip feel like a vacation in a luxury resort of some type rather than a diplomatic mission. Felix figured it was just a difference to be expected; the flowing gauzy silks draping around the beds and ornately carved windows and doorways were a far cry from the almost overbearing greys and blues of stonework and furs throughout the castle at Fhirdiad. 

The sun had just barely kissed the horizon when they arrived, and so they were fed a meal of spiced meats and pickled vegetables, fresh breads and rich wine before being sent off to rest for the evening. Felix wasn’t going to complain — travel was inherently tiring, and there was plenty for them to do the following day. He dressed down and sank into the plush comfort of his provided bed, not allowing anything to come between him and a comfortable rest after several days of camping. 

Final negotiations began the next day. After a simple breakfast following restful sleep, Dimitri, Felix, and Sylvain followed Claude and Hilda to a large meeting room. A circular table sat in the middle with overpacked bookshelves pressed to two opposite walls, and a large open window streamed sunlight and a crisp breeze into the room. They all sat around the table, and a record keeper from Fodlan pulled out the slightly-amended initial treaty draft Claude had brought for his visit. 

“We haven’t thought of much to change,” Dimitri began, rolling the scroll out to look over it as he spoke. “Just a few things regarding the implementation and safeguards for opening the Locket once more. Things we had discussed previously, nothing more.” 

Claude smiled brightly, reaching out to take the document to look over it himself. He nodded along as he read, occasionally leaning over to Hilda and pointing something out that she ended up pleased with. After a few minutes Claude placed the scroll back onto the table and looked up at Dimitri.

“It looks good to us,” he said with a small shrug. “It had looked good when we left, too, honestly. Getting you guys here was mostly just to make you visit. Also so we could have a feast. Any excuse for a feast.” 

Felix closed his eyes and sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He had thought Claude seemed much more relaxed in Almyra than he had in Fodlan — perhaps due to any prejudice he had no doubt been subjected to in his youth — and now that he understood why, he felt an inkling of exasperation sneak up his spine. 

“Are you telling me I rode a horse for more than a week straight because you wanted to have a  _ feast?” _ he asked, exasperated. He couldn’t believe he thought Fodlan nobles were tiring when the King of Almyra himself was proving to be a bit of a brat. 

“Maybe you’ll find it in yourself to  _ relax _ while you’re here,” Claude chuckled, leaning back in his chair and eyeing the three with a mischievous glint in his eye. “There’s plenty Almyra can offer; it’s about time you experience it.” 

He stood then, rolling up the treaty scroll and handing it to Hilda with a nod. 

“The final document will be ready by day’s end.” He grinned widely and leaned over the table. “What would you like to do in the meantime?” 

Dimitri’s eyes lit up like a child receiving a gift, while Sylvain and Felix shared a look. It felt like it was going to be a long day. 

And long it was. 

At Dimitri’s request, Claude showed them around the capital, introducing him to the joys of the shopping district and even trying to tempt them into going into the red light district; busier in the daytime than at night, he said with a wink, laughing as Dimitri flushed pink. 

Even as Felix heated up to an uncomfortable degree, he couldn’t find it in himself to complain at all. He crossed his arms over his chest, silently thankful for the weather-appropriate clothes Claude had gifted them, and merely followed along as Dimitri stayed on Claude’s heels like an over-eager puppy. It was annoyingly endearing. Dimitri had always been the tourist type. 

Claude treated them to sweet fruits, sold by street vendors keeping them chilled with magic-infused slabs of ice that neither melted nor steamed in the mid-day sun, and led them to street performances of traditional dance and song that left Dimitri positively delighted. Sylvain chattered along as if giving commentary as they went, appreciative of the sights and smells, occasionally asking Felix for his curt, one-word responses to their environment. It wasn’t awful. 

The people were courteous, though seemed uncaring to an extent of Claude’s station. He paid like a normal customer, haggled with artisans and cooking women like anyone else would. It was an interesting juxtaposition to life in Fhirdiad where people recognized Dimitri and bowed their respects, where shopkeepers insisted they pay discounted prices if they were even made to pay at all. Felix found he rather enjoyed this part of Almyra. Maybe the citizens of Fodlan could learn a thing or two from these people. 

His eyes never left Dimitri for too long, though, and seeing him being him so attentive to Claude made Felix think maybe rather than the people learning from one another, Dimitri could probably learn something from Claude. 

By the time they returned to the palace, Felix felt thoroughly sweaty, and eager for a change of pace. At least for a moment. The sun had made its way most of the way through the sky, and shifting oranges and reds began to mix around it as it headed towards the horizon once more. 

Luckily for him, a servant approached as they arrived to whisper something or other in Claude’s ear. He smiled and nodded, then turned and said, “Dimitri, come with me for a moment, please.” 

Dimitri agreed without a fuss, and Claude left Felix and Sylvain to their own devices with free reign of the palace and its amenities while he and Dimitri went off. 

“Wanna go take a bath?” Sylvain asked, swinging an arm around Felix’s neck and tugging him along towards the area of the palace they were staying in. “The baths here are big and open. It reminds me a little of the sauna back at the monastery.” 

Felix let himself be pulled along, regardless of the discomfort of Sylvain’s arm heavy and warm on him, and shrugged. A bath did sound nice, though, so he nodded after a moment. Sylvain smiled brightly. They parted for just a moment to retrieve changes of clothes before meeting again so Sylvain could lead the way. 

True to his words, the bath area was large, with two or three wide baths that filled the open space with steam. Felix understood why it reminded Sylvain of the monastery sauna. The pair washed off the sweat of their trip around the city before getting into one of the baths, but both relaxed into it almost immediately. 

Even though the whole city was warm, there was still something nice about sinking into warm water, letting it ease the tension and aches from muscle. Felix sighed heavily and let himself sink in up to his nose. 

But Sylvain didn’t seem pleased with peaceful relaxation. He slid up close to Felix, grinning down at him like he had some juicy secret to share. Felix raised an eyebrow at him.

“So, Dimitri, eh?” 

Felix inhaled sharply and sputtered around the water he accidentally got up his nose. He shot up, straightening his posture and scooting away from Sylvain’s mischievous face. He hoped the heat from the water was enough of an excuse for the flush on his cheeks. 

“What about him?” he asked, wary.

“He’s kind of got a thing for you, you know,” Sylvain said, voice even as if he were merely sharing the day’s weather.

“I… am aware,” Felix sighed, trying to choose his words carefully. It felt a little ridiculous. They’d spoken about it before, so why was Sylvain bringing it up again? “And you know I’m aware. So, what about him?”

“I dunno.” Sylvain glanced away with a shrug. “I just thought, y’know, we’re in a beautiful place. There’s going to be a party of some type at some point. You haven’t worked anything out. Why not make a move?”

“It’s not my move to make.” Felix frowned. “The lance is in his hands, so to speak.” 

“Take the lance back,” Sylvain said, stern. “Or you’ll both be waiting around forever.” 

“I didn’t ask for your advice, Sylvain. I told him to take his time. Goddess knows the last thing he needs right now is for me to… I don’t know, step on his toes or something because I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing him since that night he was drunk.” Felix sighed once more, heavy and sounding rather annoyed. He took a moment to scoot a little further away before dunking himself entirely under the water to escape the conversation. 

Sylvain made no move to pull him back up, and left Felix to his own devices. After many tries in his youth, Felix knew he could hold his breath for a couple minutes, and he decided he would stay under the water until he absolutely couldn’t stand it anymore. He just wanted to relax.

It was mostly quiet under the water, interrupted only by some subtle splashing that Felix chalked up to Sylvain moving about in the water. He wondered for a moment how long Sylvain was planning to stay in the bath, considering he had never really been a fan of soaking like this, but let the thought fade as his lungs began demanding oxygen once more. 

Just before he rose to the surface once more, Felix heard the splashing pick up a little, and assumed Sylvain was likely coming to keep him from drowning himself. Not that Felix wanted to drown himself, but Sylvain had always been cautious when he was around and Felix tossed himself into something that could get him into some shit.

When he popped out of the water once more, he was greeted by a familiar gasp of surprise, and opened his eyes to find himself face-to-chest with a rather nice set of pecs. A moment of blinking at them, slightly confused, was long enough for Felix to realize they were too scarred and defined to be Sylvain’s. His eyes trailed slowly upward until he met Dimitri’s startled gaze. 

“Oh, fuck,” Felix blurted. He instinctively tried to move back, but found himself very quickly meeting the wall and blinked up at Dimitri. There’s no way he could play off the color tinting in his cheeks with Dimitri so close. 

“Felix! I am so sorry, I—“ Dimitri took a step back, directly into Sylvain’s chest, who peeked around to look at Felix before grinning up at Dimitri.

“See, Your Highness?” he said, voice smug. “I told you he’s fine.” 

“Ah, yes, Sylvain, I see.” Dimitri laughed nervously, clearing his throat before stepping to the side in the water to address the both of them. “I was looking for you two. The official document has been signed now.”

“Is that what that was about?” Sylvain asked, sinking into the water once more. He floated away a bit. “That was pretty fast.” 

“I thought so too,” Dimitri said with a nod as he, too, submerged himself in the water. Felix tried to move away as subtly as possible to calm himself down as Dimitri kept talking. “It’s very finely made, though. As in the craftsmanship put into the official document is very nice.” 

“And that was what you were looking for us about?” 

“Well,” Dimitri chuckled sheepishly. “Since our mission is complete, Claude insists on celebrating.” 

Felix groaned, exhaling his discontent into the steaming water. He really hoped they wouldn’t get wrapped up in Claude’s desire to feast, but surely it would be rude to skip out on it, and Dimitri seemed the type to scold Felix should he decide to play hooky.

“Tonight?” Sylvain asked, excitement audible in his voice. “Almyran party tonight?” 

“It would seem so,” Dimitri said, flashing both of them a charming smile. “Claude said to, uh, wear the clothes he would have put on your bed. I didn’t ask anything further but I assume he has picked out something suitable for a party, and we should be grateful for them later as we were grateful for those we wore into the city.” 

Felix didn’t reply, deciding instead he had had enough of the water for the day. He made his way to the stairs of the bath and grabbed his towel from where it lay nearby with Sylvain’s, and apparently Dimitri’s. Once out of the water, he wrapped the cloth tight around his hips and tucked the corner in just enough to stay in place as he walked. 

He paused at the top of the stairs when the hairs on the back of his neck rose with the feeling of being watched. Upon glancing behind himself, he met Dimitri’s eyes, the sharp gaze that had bore a hole into his bare back. He said nothing, and left the room. 

🎉

Claude seemed incredibly enthusiastic about celebrating anything at any given moment, judging by the hustle and bustle Felix could hear as he returned to his current room. 

After returning to his room and finding some wispy blue silk things on his bed, Felix dried himself off and changed into the garments before stepping in front of an exquisite mirror in his current quarters. He turned this way and that, watching the fine fabric shift and shine as he moved. 

The outfit was simple enough — a form-fitting high-necked top, similar to the one he normally wore underneath his armor but in a rich blue, paired with a pair of black pants that sat snuggly at his hip, but were loose and flowing until tapering off at the ankle — but Felix still felt a little out of place in it. He thought the layers he was accustomed to suit him better; the well-fitting and specifically tailored clothes allowed him some modicum of safety to hide behind, didn’t offer too much of a view of his scarred arms and torso, the musculature he worked so hard to build to hide natural curves and lingering softness. But he knew those clothes were hot, too thick for the heat of Almyra. 

He stared at the final piece of fine silk on his bed, uncertain of what to do with it before simply tossing it haphazardly over one shoulder. Surely Claude or someone else would tell him what the hell he was supposed to do with it. Once dressed, he eyed the sandals placed carefully by his door. He had forgone them on their earlier trip through the city in favor of his normal brown boots, but thought he might as well dress the part for the celebration Claude was so intent on having. 

They strapped on easily, merely a loosening and tightening of a few straps and buckles on the outer side of his foot, and he found them much more comfortable than he had expected. He took another good look at himself in the mirror, humming softly before deciding he didn’t look as stupid as he could. Maybe he’d thank Claude later for dressing him appropriately instead of letting him show up floundering like a fish out of water. 

And then all there was left to do was wait. 

Which lasted for about 10 minutes before Felix left his room once more, in search of something to help pass the time. 

He ended up wandering the spacious palace for a while, peeking into empty rooms and around corners to hallways that end up either empty or full of people carrying items to the large room that Felix could only equate to the ballroom back home. The silence around him, while normal and somewhat comforting, felt vacant in a way that pressed heavily on his chest, and he wished Sylvain or Dimitri were with him to fill that void. 

A quiet bit of laughter caught his attention from a hallway coming up on his left, and he was careful to peek around silently this time, sneaking up to the edge and just barely peeking his head out to see the source of the giggling. His eyebrows raised upon finding Claude and Sylvain pressed together in the far corner, foreheads touching and chests heaving. It wouldn’t take a revered strategist to put the pieces together there. 

Felix ducked out of the hallway once more, trying not to focus on the soft speaking and occasional noise of tender kisses; he waited until Sylvain came jauntily around the corner, and grabbed him by the arm. Sylvain jerked away reflexively, then relaxed when he saw it was just Felix.

“By the Goddess,” he breathed, smiling almost nervously. “You really shouldn’t slink around like that, you know.”

“What are you  _ doing ?”  _ Felix demanded, brow furrowed. “Does your  _ wife _ know you’re out  _ kissing _ other men?” 

Sylvain narrowed his eyes at Felix and stepped away, placing both hands on his hips. He looked properly unamused.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, completely serious. “And she’s going to be jealous as fuck and probably a little proud when we get back home and I tell her, in detail, all the ways I had the King of Almyra wrapped around my finger.”

Felix’s jaw dropped. It was really all he could do to just stare at Sylvain, absolutely shocked. 

“Listen, Fe,” Sylvain draped an arm over Felix’s shoulders and began walking down the hall with him. As they went, both of them relaxed more and more, settling into their normal banter-filled friendship. “Dorothea and I love each other, yeah? You know that. And you know I have never cheated on her. She is special to me in a way no one else is.”

Felix nodded, waiting in silence to see where the conversation was headed.

“When we got married, we made an agreement. We both understand the fluidity of attraction and desire, and have been completely honest with one another about both things.” Sylvain paused, and Felix could practically see him trying to find the right words for what he was going to say. “What I’m getting at is I told her I think Claude’s good looking and she said if I wanted to jump on that wyvern, it was totally cool and she wants all the details when I get back. Claude knows that too.” 

Though he still wasn’t completely behind it, Felix nodded. It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t understand Sylvain’s actions or train of thought, but Sylvain himself seemed insistent that he wasn’t doing something bad; it was rather unlike their youth, when he hid his misdeeds and poor intentions with nonchalance and rudeness. 

“That openness is just part of our relationship. She and I both have a lot of love to give, and sometimes there’s people we want to give it to who aren’t each other. Wait, no, like, we still love each other all the time, but sometimes the well doth overflow and we want to give the additional love to someone else.” 

Sylvain paused, even stopping in his step and looking around in a way Felix was very familiar with that indicated he was thinking  _ very _ hard. After a moment, he spoke again.

“We tell each other if we get the hots for someone, and go from there. She and I both have some unresolved feelings for Claude; I just got lucky enough to get to see them play out. It’s not serious, either. Just two dudes kissing in a hallway with express permission from the married guy’s wife. Not nefarious.”

“You’re so weird,” Felix said, unable to find a better way to express his thoughts in a moment. “Your relationship is weird.” 

“Nah, dude.” Sylvain raised a hand as if brushing away Felix’s remark. “It’s just different. Do you think Ashe, Mercedes, and Dedue are weird? No, because the three of them have been in love since forever. It’s not much different except I’m just messing around unless it gets serious, you know? I am in love with Dorothea, and I have been since I was 17, but we both have come to terms with the fact that sometimes opportunities arise, and we don’t mind how we deal with that as long as we’re honest and talk about it.” 

“I’m not  _ judging _ you.” Felix tensed, feeling a bit prickly that Sylvain felt the need to justify himself so thoroughly. “I just didn’t know you guys were…” He made a sort of noncommittal gesture with his hand. “So… open.”

“And not everybody is.” Sylvain shrugged, walking down the hallway once more. “All relationships are different, and that’s what makes love hard sometimes. It’s all about trust and communication. Which you and Dimitri lack pretty severely.” 

“Can we  _ not _ make this about me?” Felix groaned, shuffling after him down the hall. “I really don’t want to think about it.” 

“You both are  _ moping , _ Felix.” Sylvain’s shoulders slumped, as if he were the one exasperated by the situation. “Like, you’re both enjoying yourselves as much as the next guy, but if I have to watch you both make puppy-dog eyes at each other across the room again, I’m going to lose my mind.” 

_ “Goddess,  _ you are a fucking nightmare, Sylvain,” Felix sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to give me a headache, I swear.” 

“You deserve it,” Sylvain said, leading the way towards the banquet hall as if he’d done it a dozen times at this point. “For all the headaches you’ve given me the past two months.” 

Felix didn’t grace that with a response, and stepped ahead of Sylvain to ask if they could be of any assistance in preparing for the evening. Even the minor tasks he could get his hands on were a welcome distraction from Sylvain’s general bullshit, and the less time Felix had to think about how Sylvain was right, the better. 

Helping out made the time pass more quickly, as well, and everything was ready to go before they knew it. The banquet hall filled out rather quickly, sitting most of the Almyran council amongst the travelling party from Fodlan to force some socialization between everyone. Claude and Dimitri sat at the head of everything, with Claude lounging about in some more casual clothing, loose and flowing like the ones he’d given everyone, and a slightly awkward looking Dimitri at his side. 

They made quite the pair. 

Felix found himself incredibly interested in their environment, even after having helped put it together; billowing silks hung from the ceiling, lanterns with colored glass coverings projected rainbows throughout the room, dancers and musicians and singers filled the area with song and the sound of bare feet on stone. 

At some point, during their meal, Felix found himself engaged in a very interesting conversation with someone on the pros and cons of Almyran steel weapons. The man was very convincing, and sounded like he had years of experience wielding a blade beyond what Felix had. He was loud and a bit boisterous, but reminded Felix of Claude in a lot of ways. 

After food was eaten and wine began pouring in excess, Felix excused himself from his spot, overheating and wishing for a breath of fresh air among the contagious joy. He headed towards a balcony area — the large, carved archway mirrored the door into the room, but led out onto a patio of sorts with a small garden and a beautiful fountain in the middle. Felix stepped outside, thankful for the fresh air and the slight evening breeze. 

He heaved a heavy sigh as a bit of cool air fluttered around him, and walked forward to the railing of the patio area. Leaning his arms on the stone, he looked over the edge, simply taking in the view around the palace once more. Some planters sat at the bottom of the small drop from the patio ledge to the ground, housing a few blooming pink flowers; though unfamiliar to Felix, he found them quite pretty, and spent a good moment tracing their shape with his eyes, as if committing it to memory. 

Someone joined Felix at the railing, and hummed a familiar hum beside him. Upon glancing over, Felix found Dimitri at his side and took a moment to eye the Almyran clothing Claude had no doubt had to convince Dimitri to wear — some thin, loose things that draped over his frame just so, colored in vivid blue. 

“You look nice,” Felix said absently after a moment. His words caught up to him almost immediately, and he felt the blood rush to his face. He looked back down at the pink flowers, trying to study them once more in an attempt to temper his flush. 

“As do you,” Dimitri returned, voice soft. 

The pair stood there for a moment, basking in the silence, the breeze, the view of the city sprawled out before them. An electric zing of anticipation seemed to fill the space between them, arcing like lighting between the scant few inches between their bodies. 

“I…” Dimitri began, his voice cracking on the single word. He cleared his throat and turned to lean his side against the railing, looking straight at Felix. “I have... been thinking.” 

Felix looked up at him, hoping he had successfully willed away any color tinting his cheeks. He raised an eyebrow and offered a half-hearted smirk before saying, “That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” 

“I’m serious,” Dimitri said, brow furrowed. He frowned a little — almost like a pout, really — and Felix couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. Seeing this, Dimitri’s frown dissipated almost immediately, replaced by that sunshine-like smile. “Are you having fun?” 

Sometimes Felix thought if Dimitri were an animal, he’d be a great big dog; one with soft yellow fur and expressive eyes, with a massive wagging tail. If Dimitri were an animal, he definitely would have been wagging his tail at the sight of Felix’s little smile. 

“I am,” Felix conceded with a slight nod. “Are you? Claude seems to be greatly enjoying himself as well.” 

Dimitri laughed, a hearty, full laugh that reminded Felix of their childhood, when Dimitri laughed freely and they ran around pretending to be knights together. It made his chest ache to think about it; way back then, before Duscur, before needless death, before dipping their hands in blood that would never scrub off. His smile dropped, and he looked out over the city once more.

Dimitri frowned again at this, and reached out to brush a stray piece of hair that had fallen from Felix’s bun behind his ear. Felix started at the touch, flinching and looking up at Dimitri with wide eyes.

“My apologies,” Dimitri said, jerking his hand back. “It was not my intention to…”

“It-it’s fine,” Felix rushed to say, shaking his head. “I just wasn’t expecting…” 

They both looked away once more for a moment before looking at each other once more. Felix’s heart pounded in his chest, caught off guard by the tender motion, and he felt that trickle of heat working its way back up his neck to stain his cheeks pink once more. 

“You were thinking?” Felix asked, straightening his posture and turning to face Dimitri properly, ready to hear whatever Dimitri had to say. 

“A-ah, yes.” Dimitri cleared his throat again and inhaled deeply. Felix caught sight of his hands trembling before he tucked them both behind his back. “I have been thinking a lot, um, about what you said — I suppose it’s been about a month now, I guess, with all the political stuff and Claude coming and—” 

He caught himself beginning to ramble, and cut himself off and deflated a little, brushing away any bravado he had intended. His eye moved around a bit, but Felix wasn’t sure what he was looking at until Dimitri met his gaze again. Without a word, Dimitri stepped a bit closer, breaching the miniscule inches between them and reaching forward to take one of Felix’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together so easily it made Felix’s breath catch in his throat.

“I would like to kiss you,” Dimitri said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eye flickered to Felix’s lips, wine reddened and parted in surprise, before returning to his eyes once more. “Felix, can I kiss you?” 

Felix tensed; the moment he had been waiting for had finally come, and he felt frozen in place. He wanted this. After coming to terms with it, he  _wanted_ this. So why was he finding it so hard to speak standing chest-to-chest with Dimitri, who was offering him  _ exactly what he wanted? _ His mouth closed and opened a few times as he searched for the appropriate response that would encapsulate all the enthusiasm he wanted to muster for his affirmation, but in the end his mind failed him and left him dumbstruck.

“Felix?” 

Dimitri’s hand released Felix’s in favor of reaching up to his face. He brushed another stray hair from Felix’s face before gently cupping both of his cheeks in his hands. Felix still only stared up at him, wide eyed like a deer about to become someone’s prey. Though he did not feel like a prey animal, he didn't feel cornered or scared, but soothed by familiar callused hands touching him so gently. 

Felix nodded once, then twice, then lifted his hands to clutch at the soft material of Dimitri’s shirt before nodding a third time. 

The space between them was minimal already, making the initial lean in a very short distance, but Felix still stopped Dimitri before their lips touched. 

“You’re sober?” he asked, breathless at their proximity.

Dimitri nodded with a soft laugh. “Completely.”

“You swear?” 

“On my life.” 

Dimitri stroked his thumbs over Felix’s cheekbones, waiting for… another statement, a sign of the Goddess, maybe for lightning to strike them both dead. Felix didn’t know what, exactly, Dimitri was waiting for though, so he simply gave another little nod and pushed up on his toes to press their lips together. 

If there was one thing Felix could say before this moment, it would have been that he had no real interest in kissing. He had no interest in kissing when they were in school, had no interest during the war, and wasn't particularly interested after the war. Even if he had experimented here and there with his body and the bodies of others at some point in his life, kissing was never… something he was concerned with. In fact, he would probably have said he had no interest in kissing until Dimitri sparked it in him with his loose drunken lips and a kiss on his neck. 

After their lips met, he understood why people were interested in kissing; he understood why Sylvain was always doing it, why people had longed for their first kiss, why it was so easy for others to be swept away in it. He understood the feeling of being touched softly and kissed like he was precious.

Dimitri’s lips were firm against his — firm but not demanding, not insistent or devouring — just a solid pressure against his mouth that was nearly maddening. That simple feeling made Felix’s head reel, made his mind cloud over. He wanted more, wanted to feel wanted, wanted to feel treasured. 

Felix trailed his hands up over the loose silk of Dimitri’s shirt to rest on his shoulders and pull him a little closer. There wasn’t much room for closer, but Dimitri didn’t protest and merely erased any space between them so he was pressed wholly against Felix. The hands on his cheeks slipped away, moving to rest on Felix’s slim waist, to hold onto him and pull him forward, ever closer, as if they could melt into one another.

Felix felt a little bit like they could melt into one another. 

And then he was brought back to his senses, remembering they were standing on a palace patio in Almyra, likely visible to everyone back in the banquet hall. He pulled back rather quickly, earning a pouty frown from Dimitri in response. 

“Wh—”

“Not—” Felix’s voice cracked on the word, and he cast his gaze away while clearing his throat. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and feel the blush that no doubt tinted his cheeks vibrantly. 

Dimitri frowned further and took Felix’s wrist in his hand to pull him back into the banquet hall. They didn’t rejoin the festivities, though, instead Dimitri stepped aside to whisper something to Claude, who flashed Felix a roguish grin before nodding and whispering something back. Felix stood idly by, trying his damnedest to even out his frantic breathing and school his frazzled expression. 

Claude was apparently on board with whatever Dimitri said to him, as he waved them off, and no one stopped them as Dimitri once again pulled Felix along with him, right out of the banquet hall and towards the chambers they were staying in during their trip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my laziness knows no bounds,,,, find me on twitter @B4KUGOUAWAY, as i am a weeb


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did I embarrass you?” Dimitri asked, gently turning Felix’s head back again with a hand on his cheek. He pressed another long, searing kiss to his lips, reveling in the way Felix melted into it. “You don’t have to look away. You don’t have to hide, not from me. You’re beautiful.” 
> 
> “Shut up,” Felix huffed, reaching up to rest both of his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders. He ran his hands over Dimitri’s skin, gently tracing every scar, every imperfection that he could reach. “You’re beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ ME PLS,,, they fuck in this chapter. its definitely skippable. the horny god possessed my brain went i wrote this like 4 months ago. felix is trans, thats important in this chapter.

By the time Felix was unceremoniously tossed onto the fine red sheets of Dimitri’s bed, he had been kissed senseless twice more and had been introduced to the wonders of  _ tongue. _ Dimitri seemed unfairly skilled with his, coaxing Felix’s lips to part, sliding along his teeth, slick and writhing and hot. Or perhaps Dimitri wasn’t skilled, and Felix had simply never been kissed properly in his life. 

When Dimitri deposited Felix onto the bed, he was left flushed and panting, looking up at Dimitri’s strong silhouette illuminated by several bright candles scattered about the room. Dimitri took a moment to shuck off his thin blouse before climbing onto the bed after Felix, crawling forward on his hands and knees to cage Felix in for another bruising kiss. 

Felix’s hands came up on instinct, first simply resting on Dimitri’s shoulders before snaking around his neck to pull him closer. Dimitri lowered himself on one elbow, moving his other hand to Felix’s waist. He was sure in his motions when he slid his hand under the thin fabric of Felix’s shirt, inching slowly upward until he pulled back and tugged the offending piece of clothing up and off. 

The swift motion of his shirt being pulled off nearly caught Felix off guard, and he blinked a few times as Dimitri threw the bunch of fabric off to the side to join his own. Felix gave himself a moment to really look at Dimitri above him, to really take in the scarred expanse of his chest and shoulders, familiar but somehow so foreign, befitting of a King who had fought and won a war. 

It was hard for Felix to  _ not _ compare his body to Dimitri’s. Even though they had both trained and fought for years and years, there was just a natural difference between the two; Dimitri was broad and strapping, his musculature visible and impressive where Felix was more lean, toned but not quite defined. Briefly, Felix asked himself when it was that Dimitri had developed so much. When exactly had he stopped being lanky and gangly? 

“You’re staring,” Dimitri said, smirking to himself as he returned Felix’s roaming gaze. “What are you looking at so intently?” 

If Felix wasn’t already blushing, he definitely would have been after that comment. He averted his gaze immediately, turning his head to stare purposefully at the gauzy curtains that fell around the bed frame. 

“Did I embarrass you?” Dimitri asked, gently turning Felix’s head back again with a hand on his cheek. He pressed another long, searing kiss to his lips, reveling in the way Felix melted into it. “You don’t have to look away. You don’t have to hide, not from me. You’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up,” Felix huffed, reaching up to rest both of his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders. He ran his hands over Dimitri’s skin, gently tracing every scar, every imperfection that he could reach. _“_ _ You’re _ beautiful.” 

Dimitri didn’t respond to that, instead leaning down once more for another kiss to Felix’s lips before beginning to kiss down his neck, over his collarbones. He pressed kiss after kiss to the skin, tracing scars in a way similar to how Felix’s fingers had moved and murmuring softly about how beautiful Felix was, how nice his body was, how his waist fit so well in Dimitri’s hands when he grabbed him. 

The way Dimitri moved, careful to kiss and praise every inch of Felix’s body, showed that he had been thinking about this, thinking about Felix beyond the thoughtful considerations of a long-time friend, and it made Felix’s heart flutter faster in his chest. The thought sent electricity through his veins, following the path of kisses Dimitri left in his wake as he continued down Felix’s body. 

Felix tried not to think about it too hard when Dimitri worked him out of his pants and tossed them aside, leaving Felix exposed and bare underneath him. Before Felix could feel the rush of embarrassment from being naked in such an intimate context, Dimitri’s mouth was on him again, kissing over his hip bones, down his thighs, his calves. 

When Dimitri’s kisses started coming back up, he began trailing his kisses to Felix’s inner thighs until he reached the apex of his thighs. He pressed an open mouthed kiss there as well, sending a shock of surprise up Felix’s spine. 

“You don’t have to,” Felix gasped, sitting up abruptly and grabbing a handful of Dimitri’s soft blond hair. 

Dimitri raised an eyebrow at him, but made no effort to move, saying, “Do you dislike it?” 

The question caught Felix off guard. It wasn’t that he  _ disliked _ it, perse; it just wasn’t… something he expected from anyone, let alone  _ Dimitri _ _._

“No…” He acquiesced, releasing his hold on Dimitri’s hair to lean back on his elbows, eyes glued to the image of Dimitri between his legs. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes there for too long, though; the sight was simply too much for him to handle when paired with the sensation of Dimitri’s tongue, warm and insistent against him. Flopped back on the bed, he brought one hand to his mouth and bit into the back of his wrist in hopes of muting any of the highly embarrassing noises he couldn’t keep from spilling from his lips. 

With barely the passing of a moment, Dimitri reached up with one hand to grab Felix’s elbow and gently tug the hand away, pulling it down to lace their fingers together. It felt so ridiculously  _ intimate _ _,_ regardless of their current position, that Felix couldn’t help but choke out a mortifying whimper. 

Dimitri pulled back then, exhaling a soft,  _ “ _ _fuck,”_ before sliding back up to slot their lips together once more. Felix groaned at the taste of himself on Dimitri’s lips, and slid his unoccupied hand over Dimitri’s chest, down his torso to push half-heartedly at the waistband of his pants. Understanding easily enough, Dimitri pulled away once more to push and worm his way out of the offending garment to drop them among the pile of their clothing on the floor. 

Felix reached down to take Dimitri in hand, but was stopped by Dimitri pressing himself against Felix and kissing him once more. He raised his hand instead to Dimitri’s hair once more, sliding his fingers through blond locks and pulling him closer. 

“Do you want this?” Dimitri asked, barely pulling away from the kiss enough to get the words out. “Want me?” 

“I do,” Felix said, spreading his legs further around Dimitri’s hips to entice him further. “I want you.” 

Overjoyed with the answer, Dimitri smiled, kissing Felix again and again as he rocked his hips against Felix’s; more of a tease than anything, but still enough to make Felix gasp softly into their kisses. 

“C’mon,” Felix groaned softly, hooking one of his legs around Dimitri’s hips.  _ “Dimitri.” _

Dimitri chuckled softly at Felix’s apparent impatience before obliging, reaching down to guide himself into Felix. He buried his face in Felix’s neck with a groan as he slid home. 

_ “Goddess, Felix,” _ he breathed, clutching a fistful of the sheets by Felix’s head. 

Felix draped his arms over Dimitri’s shoulders before sliding one into his hair once more, holding Dimitri as he adjusted to the feeling of being connected with Dimitri in such a way. Dimitri stayed still, pressing open mouthed kisses to the side of Felix’s neck as he waited, patient and accommodating until Felix gave him the go-ahead. 

Their bodies moved together as if it were second nature, melting into each other with every kiss, every caress, until they were breathless, drunk on one another to the point where they could hardly tell where one ended and the other began. It felt good — it felt  _ right _ for them to be in each other’s arms, like they were meant to be together in this way, like finding a missing puzzle piece and pushing it into place. 

It was easy enough for them to get lost in one another, to breathe each other in and not let go, even as the moon reached its highest point before descending in the sky, even as the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon, until they were both satisfied and exhausted, and they found peaceful sleep, wrapped in one another and unwilling to let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u read this i am so sorry


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri needed to think it over himself. He needed to get in the mindset of working through his problems on his own, especially ones that he considered more private than any of the messes of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to my best bud who makes an appearance as a little maternal monster in this one

After returning from Almyra, things seemed to settle down pretty quickly. The implementation of the Fodlan-Almyran treaty was underway and none of the current land-holding Lords and Ladies put up any fuss when it became official. Three weeks past saw trade beginning more freely between the two nations, and the post-war reconstruction was aided greatly by travelers looking for a bit of work as they passed through the war-torn cities. 

As things progressed, Dimitri felt like he could breathe again, as if he had shorn some restricting weight from his very soul. The meetings felt less tedious, and planning less daunting. Even after Dorothea gave birth and Sylvain was off to Gautier territory for an extended amount of time, Dimitri felt at ease. 

He chalked it up to Felix. Even if it wasn’t intentional, Felix had become a little more affectionate, a little less guarded when it came to brushing past Dimitri in close quarters, reaching across him to point at maps on his desk, even absently leaning his head against Dimitri’s shoulder when they sat side-by-side in front of the fire having tea in the evenings. The little moments of contact were like an instant pick-me-up, and Dimitri cherished every one of them. 

Not to mention that these tender moments were also interspersed with evenings reminiscent of that night in Almyra, with the pair wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing whispers and soft kisses. Dimitri always tried to make the most of these times, drawing out their pleasure and showering Felix in the love Dimitri had held to himself for so long. 

When Sylvain returned after four months to check on things, he was surprised at how lax everyone had become in his absence. 

“Yo, Dima,” he called one day, practically skipping into Dimitri’s study with a bright grin on his face. “How’re you holding up?” 

“Me?” Dimitri blinked at him, momentarily confused. “I… am fine. Is something wrong?” 

“No, no,” Sylvain reassured him, shaking his head. “It’s just weird for everything to be so  _ calm _ _._ I feel like you’ve been on the verge of a panic attack since the war ended, but we even went to Almyra and back and you didn’t have a breakdown. And now everything seems great. I just want to make sure you’re not, like, holding back on us or something.” 

“I assure you, restraining my emotions is something I have left entirely in the past.” Dimitri gave a soft little laugh and closed the ledger he’d been writing in. He propped his elbows up on the desk and rested his chin in his hands. “How are things for you? We’ve not had much time to just chat recently. How are the children? Dorothea?” 

Sylvain laughed, dragging a small chair from the corner of the room to sit across from Dimitri at the desk. He leaned onto the smooth wooden surface as well, smiling up at Dimitri. 

“Everything is fine. Hannah is a little maternal monster, though. She practically refuses to leave Mason’s side,” he said with a little shake of his head. The fondness in his eyes was practically overflowing, and Dimitri knew Sylvain would much rather be home with his family. “Dorothea is… feisty as ever, I suppose.” 

Dimitri saw Sylvain’s face fall, and the atmosphere between them soured for a moment. Dorothea had fallen ill a few days before going into labor, and remained febrile for the days immediately following. She had recovered by the time Dimitri and Felix had come to visit about a week later, but Sylvain clearly displayed signs of stress, complete with dark circles under his eyes and more than a few days of uneven stubble over his cheeks. He still greeted them warmly, trying not to let his tiredness be off-putting, and all Dimitri had done was embrace him and tell him he’d been doing well. 

Even months later, they were uncertain of the cause of her sudden illness, and only relieved by its apparent disappearance. There didn’t seem to be any effects on the child, though, which was also a positive in such a stressful time, but the worry had firmly taken root in Sylvain’s mind. 

“She keeps scolding me for trying to keep her in bed,” Sylvain half-groaned. He ran a hand through his hair and a small smile tugged at his lips once more. “‘I’m more than capable,’ she says. As if I didn’t fight a war with her. You’d think she’d let me be more concerned for her, but I can say three things about Dorothea and motherhood, and one is that it has seemingly made her even more resolute.” 

“What are the other two?” Dimitri asked softly, though he already knew the answers. He’d heard this spiel many times before.

“It softened her much more than I had ever expected,” Sylvain said, glancing down at the desk as that fond look returned to his eyes. “And it suits her well. She was worried, you know, when we first learned we were expecting. ‘What if our child hates me?’ she asked. ‘What if I’m not a good mother?’ I didn’t tell her I feared the same things. I needed to be strong for her...” 

He trailed off for a moment before pulling his gaze back to Dimitri’s face. 

“Did I ever tell you that?” His voice lowered. “I thought that any kids I had would detest me. I didn’t know how to be a father. My only positive experience was with Rodrigue, and I didn’t see how he acted half the time. I didn’t know how he… disciplined Glenn and Felix. I didn’t see him stern or demanding. I could only be there so often.” 

"Well, friend, five and a half years and two more children later, you have proven to be an excellent father," Dimitri said, reaching across the desk to pat Sylvain on the shoulder with a smile. "I think you know what not to do and that is what is truly important."

Sylvain chuckled at this and reached across to return Dimitri’s pat with a soft punch to his bicep. Dimitri couldn’t help but pick up on the somber aura that settled around Sylvain, so he tried to pick the mood back up with a complete subject change.

“Not to be presumptuous, but I must admit I am surprised you have not mentioned Felix to me in the time you have returned to the capital,” he said, flashing a little grin he hoped would improve Sylvain’s mood. 

The effect was almost instantaneous, with Sylvain sitting up with a raised eyebrow. He leaned over the table, mirroring Dimitri’s grin with a soft, “do you have something juicy to tell me? Any new developments after your sordid affair in Almyra?” 

“Not particularly,” Dimitri admitted with a soft laugh. “Though I can say he is rather affectionate. I never would have expected, given how hard he had become in our youth.” 

“Yeah, I’d say roughly 80% of his hardassery was directly Blaiddyd related.” Sylvain nodded, his grin sliding into a fond smile. “Now that you’re both sorted, I wouldn’t be surprised if he reverted back into a five year old, tugging on shirt sleeves and crying when he falls and scrapes his knees.” 

Dimitri laughed softly, fondly remembering their childhood; Felix had been so sweet as a child, soft and caring. A little pang of regret shot into his heart as he remembered it had been  _ his _ fault that Felix had shut himself off. It had been Dimitri’s fault Felix had built a fortress around himself that took a war and some months to crumble enough for him to comfortably express or receive emotion beyond anger. 

“Don’t look so sad,” Sylvain said, reaching over and giving Dimitri’s shoulder a shove. “You can’t think too hard about this or you’ll make yourself feel bad. What’s good is that he seems to be processing everything pretty well. There was a brief period of time where I thought he might turn into a turtle and hide in his shell until he died. Getting you two to talk about your feelings felt like running a marathon with ten pound weights attached to my ankles  _ and _ wrists.”

“Jeez.” Dimitri reached up to scratch the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “When you put it like that… I feel a bit burdensome.”

“That’s not my intention and you know it,” Sylvain said, quick to interrupt that line of thinking. “It’s practically my job as your friend to run marathons like this.” 

“It  _was_ rather difficult to get him to speak to me when you returned home before Claude arrived,” Dimitri admitted. “But he has always preferred action over words. Perhaps he expected the worst from me.” 

Sylvain shook his head with a soft sight. “I’m more willing to bet he was trying to avoid embarrassment more than he was trying to avoid you. He would have reacted the same if it were Annette or Ingrid or any of us.” 

“I suppose.” Dimitri nodded with a thoughtful hum. “He still prefers action to words, but there honestly has not been need for any serious discussion thus far.” 

“Thanks to  _ me _ _,”_ Sylvain chuckled, standing up to strike a dramatic pose. “Just call me your matchmaker. This is a perk of being in love with your best friend.”

“And when the time comes that something  _ does _ come up, I trust the two of you enough to hope you won’t need me to initiate or mediate,” he continued, placing his hands on his hips. Dimitri thought it funny how he, the King of Faerghus, felt like a child being scolded with Sylvain looking down at him like that. “If you two can’t get it together when the time comes for serious conversation, I will beat you both into dust.” 

Dimitri barked a laugh, and nodded at Sylvain with a smile. 

“Yes, sir,” he said, switching the ledger from his desk with another from one of the ornate desk’s many drawers. “I will keep this in mind going forward.” 

“Good. I think since everything seems fine here, I’m going to head back to Gautier,” Sylvain said, watching Dimitri’s face for any sign of opposition, any minute change in expression. Dimitri merely smiled and nodded.

“Of course. Enjoy the time with your family,” Dimitri said, still smiling. “Write should you need us.”

They said their farewells, and Sylvain stepped out, leaving Dimitri alone in his study once more. He sighed to himself, pushing his chair back to stand and turn towards the large window behind his desk. Beyond the frosty window panes, Fhirdiad sprawled out before him; he could easily locate the School of Sorcery, where Annette made her place as the head teacher, and the school Mercedes and Dedue owned and operated in the Duscur residential district.

His gaze drifted over the city, following familiar cobblestone that split from major roads into alleys and side streets he hadn’t walked since his childhood until they converged at the front gates of the castle. A pair of knights on patrol reminded him of the times he spent with Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid running along the outer wall with small wooden swords and lances, pretending to vanquish whatever evil would befall them. The memory brought a small smile to his face that faltered when the two knights met with a familiar pair back by the gates. 

Ingrid and Felix stood with each other, waiting to take the next patrol slot as they had begun to do recently.

Dimitri’s hands curled into fists at his side, his brow furrowing as he merely looked at them. 

Perhaps he had… withheld some information from Sylvain regarding the blossoming relationship he had with Felix. He had intended to tell the truth when he had brought it up, honestly, but Sylvain didn’t deserve to be weighed down with problems other than his own. Sylvain had spent so much of his life bearing the weight of his own problems and still taking on the burden of caring for others to the point that Dimitri almost found it cruel to bring up non-business related issues with him. They were grown; Sylvain did not need to encumber himself with the petty affairs of Dimitri and Felix’s relationship. 

Dimitri needed to think it over himself. He needed to get in the mindset of working through his problems on his own, especially ones that he considered more private than any of the messes of his past. If he thought Felix was once again withdrawing from him, he probably needed to address it on his own. How could he ever prove himself dependable, able to take care of himself and others, if he always ran to someone else at the sign of any mild grievance. 

Admittedly, he had been putting off trying to address it with Felix. There just never seemed to be a good time to  _ talk _ _._ Either Felix came to him late enough for them to simply fall asleep in each other’s arms, or he was in a good enough mood that breaching the subject was sure to run that small smile right from his beautiful face. 

Tonight, he decided, would be the night he would steel himself and ask. It hurt enough to see Felix clam up as if the last four months had never happened that Dimitri did not need Sylvain’s advice to know he needed to address the situation. What was worse was that Dimitri was unsure if he had said something wrong, if he had made a wrong move somewhere in their moments of intimacy, if he had chased away the one person he had ever given his heart to with his words or actions or perhaps even a lack thereof—

It had to be tonight. It had to. 

The rest of the day seemed to drag on with Dimitri’s newfound determination. It may have been because that resolve made him antsy to an extent, but every moment felt like an eternity through each meeting he attended until dinner. Even dinner seemed unnecessarily prolonged, like each bite extended the meal infinitely.

By the time he finally made his way to his own chambers to mentally prepare himself for what he assumed would be a difficult conversation, he was practically vibrating with nerves. 

As expected, the room was dark save for the weak light of a candle sat on his dresser against the far wall. Dimitri approached the dresser to pull another long candle from one of the top drawers, but paused halfway when an abnormal shine caught his eye from under the downturned corner of his bedsheets. He stepped closer to the bed, eye narrowing and fingers twitching at his side as if preparing for a fight, and his breath caught in his throat when he properly saw what sat there waiting for him.

A sword, familiar and worn but well taken care of, rested stuck through the spaulders of an equally familiar breastplate with a short green cape attached. Upon the breastplate laid a single piece of parchment, with nothing but a poorly drawn smiling face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He typically spent afternoons and evenings at the training grounds, and often took patrol shifts with Ingrid to hone his senses once more, to increase the awareness he had unknowingly lost in his time of laziness. There was a lot of nostalgia to the shifts they took, reminding him of the group tasks Byleth assigned pairs to when they were still in the academy. He found it helpful to be able to talk casually with Ingrid while patrolling, since it was more realistic for them to chatter than for them to be silent. The easy chats they had were usually one of Felix’s favorite parts of the day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for abduction, non-consensual (not inherently sexual) touching, graphic depiction of bones breaking

After returning to the capital, Felix happily found himself spending more and more time at the castle training grounds. Training had once again taken a prominent spot in the forefront of his mind, but Ingrid’s quiet friendship also beckoned to him and he often spent afternoons sparring with her or some of the knights under her command. 

Sometimes his thoughts trailed back to his past love of fighting, the desire for strength in his youth that died out along with the war. It made sense, to an extent. The war changed people — Felix included — and he was able to set some of his own ghosts to rest peacefully. Before the final battles at Enbarr, he had bested Byleth in a sparring match somehow. Besting them had been his goal for so long, Byleth had been the strongest person he knew for so long, it felt like… he had reached the finish line of his life. 

It had been the battle on the way back from the monastery that had really motivated him to pick up his sword once more. Something about the instance haunted him — maybe it was the fuzzy memory of Dimitri crying over him, telling him he would be okay, saying they’d return home together — and the lingering feeling of regret that had stewed in the back of his mind since he had awoken festered there like an open wound. He could not allow himself to grow weak from negligence; there would always be another foe to protect against, even if he had surpassed the bar of strength he had obsessed over for so long. 

He typically spent afternoons and evenings at the training grounds, and often took patrol shifts with Ingrid to hone his senses once more, to increase the awareness he had unknowingly lost in his time of laziness. There was a lot of nostalgia to the shifts they took, reminding him of the group tasks Byleth assigned pairs to when they were still in the academy. He found it helpful to be able to talk casually with Ingrid while patrolling, since it was more realistic for them to chatter than for them to be silent. The easy chats they had were usually one of Felix’s favorite parts of the day. 

Unfortunately, they also managed to lead to… this. 

It had been innocent enough; a simple question of clarification Ingrid asked that caught Felix off guard. 

“What’s going on with you and Dimitri?” she had asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye when they began their patrol shift. “The knights keep whispering but no one will clarify.” 

Felix couldn’t have predicted his answer would spiral into a minor argument — “Don’t you think people will find it questionable when it comes out the King is romantically involved with one of his closest advisors? Who knows what rumors will spread, what liberties people will take if they’re under the impression Dimitri has grown too comfortable.” — that would occupy them to the point of… Well.

He sighed around the cloth shoved in his mouth and squirmed once more in his bonds, uncaring if the rope rubbed his wrists raw behind his back as he writhed on the floor for the wooden cart he and Ingrid had been recklessly tossed into. Frustration and annoyance pulsed steadily through him, increasing in intensity with every passing moment until the cart came to an abrupt stop. He went still when the face of one of their abductors came into view — the only one who had spoken thus far, a balding man with a prominent scar across one cheek and the bridge of his nose.

“Hope your ride was comfortable,” the man jeered, flashing a smile that practically dripped with malice. “We’ve arrived at our location for the night.” 

Several pairs of hands seemed to appear out of nowhere, grabbing at Felix and Ingrid harshly to drag them from the cart. A muscular arm hefted Felix over a shoulder and wrapped tight around his middle. Any struggle he attempted was met with that arm squeezing a little tighter around him until he felt like it might bruise. 

They were brought into a wooden cabin consisting of a room, mostly bare save for a few ramshackle chairs and a bed stripped to bare bones. Felix watched as Ingrid was pushed and pulled this way and that until she was tied to one of the chairs, her legs unbound only to be secured to the chair legs and her arms manipulated until they were bound tightly behind the chair. She glared daggers into each person who stepped into her line of sight, and shouted something made unintelligible by her own cloth gag that Felix was sure would have been something scathing. 

“Shut up!” One irritated man snapped at her, slapping her across the face when she made some noise of response at him. His hand left her cheek blossoming red, and she looked over at Felix with nervous eyes. 

After a moment of discussion between Baldy and the man holding Felix, he was dumped unceremoniously on the bare mattress. He was quick to move, pulling himself into a sitting position with the toned muscles of his core and an anchor of his bound feet pressed into the mattress. Baldy and Muscles stood at the foot of the bed, observing Felix’s actions with obvious mirth in their eyes as he sneered at them around his gag. 

Felix’s entire body was tense, tightly wound like a spring prepared to snap at the smallest bit of pressure. The bonds at his wrists and ankles held him tight, making escape likely impossible. A list of options ran through his mind, but he couldn’t properly consider any of them in the moment. Muscles leaned over to Baldy and muttered something under his breath which made the man grin; the expression made Felix’s stomach churn and something unpleasant settle in his chest. 

A few moments passed before the crowd of five or six people settled down in the room. Felix kept throwing glances at Ingrid, just to keep an eye on her, but that was stopped quickly when Baldy stepped forward and took Felix’s chin in hand. He tilted Felix’s face this way and that, as if inspecting him, and then chuckled. 

“Interesting taste in whores, your King has,” he said, although it almost sounded more like he was thinking aloud rather than really talking to any of them. “The Galatea bitch and the only pup in the pack with a major crest.” 

Felix could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as Baldy spoke, and that tenseness in his muscles intensified as if he could pounce on the man before he could continue. Of course, he couldn’t, and he could merely sit and scowl as the man held onto his chin.

“Of course, we know Blaiddyds have a certain type, though,” he continued with a dark chuckle. His dark eyes seemed to twinkle with something unsavory as he stared at Felix, and Felix returned his unwavering gaze with eyes full of anger. “Isn’t that right, little guard dog?” 

If Felix could have spit in Baldy’s face, he would have, but instead he merely maintained their eye contact, funneling every ounce of rage in his body into his stare. He didn’t really care about what was said about him, but Ingrid had worked hard for her position; she had overcome struggles that these cowards could only dream about, and yet they stared at her with unimpressed eyes and mocking smiles.  _ That _ made Felix’s blood boil.

Baldy leaned forward suddenly, and Felix jerked away at the first feeling of breath against his ear. Baldy seemed to anticipate that, catching Felix in his hands before he could jerk too far away.

“I’ve heard, Fraldarius,” Baldy began, his lips uncomfortably close to Felix’s ear. “That the King’s got a new plaything in his bed. Would you happen to know anything about this?”

Much to his chagrin, Felix could feel the heat creeping up his cheeks. Baldy pulled back to look at him and laughed meanly, but Felix kept his death stare steady, even as he flushed. He stepped away from the bed, and Felix’s stance relaxed minimally as the attention of most of the ruffian crew left him. 

Instead, everyone seemed to focus on Ingrid, where a well-dressed woman had taken Ingrid by the chin similarly to how Baldy had grabbed Felix. The woman looked over Ingrid’s face, no doubt sneering at the scar above her eyebrow, one on her jawline — the scars of war that Ingrid had come to terms with solely because she felt she had no time to worry about things like vanity. Clearly the woman valued beauty highly, judging by the too-nice clothes she wore and the heavily applied makeup caked on her face Felix saw when she turned to look back at Baldy.

“Why did you bring this one?” she asked, voice high and grating. The tone was familiar, but Felix couldn’t place it; he was positive he’d heard this woman around the castle somewhere, though. She looked back at Ingrid once more, delighting in the wince of pain on Ingrid’s face as she dug sharp claws into her skin. “She’s so  _ ugly. _ How could any of you think she’d be involved with the King?” 

No one answered, but Felix definitely heard a muttered swear and could practically hear every man in the room roll their eyes. He didn’t bother giving any attention directly to her remark, instead looking straight at Ingrid with his same vicious scowl. The woman’s nails dug harshly into the skin of Ingrid’s face, leaving angry red marks, but Ingrid didn’t seem visibly bothered by the statement. 

With no one giving her remark any attention, the woman turned her darkly lined eyes to Felix on the bed. His body tensed once more as her gaze landed on him, and she released Ingrid’s face harshly before stepping towards him. She didn’t bother with any sort of gentleness when she grabbed his cheeks, but Felix was momentarily grateful it was only the pads of her fingers pressing his cheeks into his teeth and not her sharp nails. 

“Now,  _ this,” _ she exhaled, excited eyes widening as she took in Felix’s visage. “Looks like the toy of a Blaiddyd.”

The sick glee in those blue eyes caught Felix off-guard, and he momentarily felt as if he was looking into the crazed face of Cornelia. Their similarities did not go beyond those eyes, but he still could not help the shuddering breath he took as she studied him closely. A giddy giggle bubbled from her rouged lips as they stared each other down. 

“They were walking together,” Baldy said after a moment. Felix glanced towards him to see his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unamused. “Easier to grab both.” 

The woman snarled angrily and released Felix’s face only to smack him across the face with the back of her hand. He snapped his eyes back to her, anger boiling the blood in his veins as she casually looked over her fingers, like she was checking if she had broken a nail. 

“It’d do you well to learn to look only at the one with their hands on you,” she said, nonchalant. When she looked back at him, rage colored her eyes, even if her expression was neutral. “Do you want to play a game, Duke Fraldarius? I’ll let anyone in this room touch you and anyone else in this room try to distract you, and if you look away, I’ll break one of your fingers.” 

Felix’s anger died down, replaced by panic brought out by her words, and he scrambled wildly to try to push himself away from the edge of the bed as she sat gingerly on the bare mattress. Stubborn or not, the thought of  _ anyone _ putting their hands on him made Felix’s skin crawl. He hated people touching him without reason. He  _ hated _ it. He would prefer she break his fingers anyway than make him endure unnecessary skinship with any of the dirty group filling the room. 

“What’s the matter?” the woman cooed at him as if he were a child, smiling almost maternally as hands grabbed his bound ankles and pulled him back once more. “Don’t you like games?” 

He glared daggers at her when he was pulled close to her again, and she clicked her tongue at him softly. 

“The game is beginning, dear,” she said, reaching out to brush his bangs from his face. The touch was entirely too tender for the situation, and it made Felix’s stomach twist into knots. “Eyes down.” 

Obedient purely thanks to the mounting anxiety of having a stranger touch him, Felix looked down to look at the man who had grabbed his ankles to yank him back. It was another muscular man, this one with a square jaw and what appeared to be fire burns over half of his face, and he took his sweet time making any movements. The man dragged out his first move, slowly sliding his hands from Felix’s ankles and up his legs. 

The feeling only added to the unease swirling in Felix’s body, and it took a substantial amount of willpower not to instinctively jerk away or avert his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful the man wasn’t staring back at him or if he should be disgusted that the man’s eyes followed the toned curve of his legs so closely as his hands moved. 

“Very good,” Heavy Make-up said from beside Felix. He had to physically stop himself from looking over at her, hyper aware of the threat lingering in the air around them. 

The man left then, and was replaced by Muscles, who had been standing nearby since dropping Felix on the bed. He was rougher with his approach, expression almost displeased as he gripped Felix’s waist in his hands hard enough to bruise. Felix bit back a grunt of pain, twitching minutely but keeping his eyes focused on Muscles though his brain screamed to look away. 

A rough hand forced its way under his clothes, slipping beneath his undershirt with too much ease. This touch forced a shudder down his spine, making his body tremble, and he closed his eyes and turned his head aside desperate to force his brain out of the situation. 

Before he could even realize his mistake, smooth hands grabbed for his bound wrists and yanked them to the side. Felix’s eyes snapped open and swung immediately towards Heavy Make-up, wide with panic. 

She took his left hand in her own and braced her thumbs and forefingers against the first section of his pointer finger. For a split second, a maniacal grin spread across her face, and then she  _ pressed _ _;_ she bore down with both of her thumbs, sending a dull, consistent pain up Felix’s arm until the digit snapped in her hands with a crisp  _ pop .  _

The dull ache burst into a hot flare of sharp pain that had his right hand clenching into a fist and tears gathering in his eyes. He tried to contain any reaction from leaving him, but ultimately couldn’t stop the half-groan that spilled into his cloth gag. 

Heavy Make-up and Muscles both laughed as Heavy Make-up dropped Felix’s hands to sit limply once more. He groaned as his now broken finger jostled among the others. 

“Now we’ll resume,” Heavy Make-up said, motioning for Muscles to continue his movement. 

Felix dragged his watery eyes to glare down at Muscles, trying his best to calm himself with deep breaths even as Muscles’s hands pushed farther under his shirt. It wasn’t hard to focus on the large man in front of him once he calmed himself enough to keep the tears from falling and obscuring his vision.    


Before too long, Muscles switched out with another random ruffian, who was rougher even than Muscles had been in his exploration. Felix toughed it out as best he could, tense and obstinate as hands wandered over the scarred expanse of his torso, ran down the length of his legs. He thought, perhaps, they would become bored of him if he proved competent enough in their little game. He just had to keep himself focused. 

He heard a snap from nearby, but didn’t dare shift his attention from the person in front of him. It wasn’t until there was a bit of shuffling and a muffled shout from Ingrid that Felix looked away. He thought it a reflex more than anything — being attentive to your comrades could be the difference between life or death in war, and even though the war was over, old habits die hard. 

There wasn’t even a moment long enough for him to see what had prompted the sound from Ingrid before Heavy Make-up had Felix’s hands once more, choosing his untouched pointer finger to break this time. It was nearly an identical moment to the first; she braced her thumbs and forefingers against his, grinning, and exerted a steady pressure until the bone fractured in her hands.

Although he knew what to expect this time, the pain wasn’t any duller than the first. It was still as sharp and searing, still enough to bring tears to his eyes once more. This time he didn’t even try to stop himself from whining. 

Once again, Heavy Make-up dropped his hands, sending a new jolt of pain through both of his hands, radiating from the broken, rapidly swelling fingers. Felix wasn’t quite quick enough to hold back his tears either, letting them spill from his eyes as he breathed harshly around the gag. 

“Is that all it takes to break a Fraldarius?” Heavy Make-up sneered, reaching out to gently cup Felix’s cheek. He shuddered at the touch. “I expected you to last a little longer before letting those tears out. Have you gotten weak since the war ended?” 

He didn’t grace her with an answer beyond glaring weakly, meeting her smug eyes with as much venom as he could muster in his current state. 

Her next words were cut off by the muffled sounds of shouting and grunting from outside. Heavy Make-up stood quickly, yanking Felix along by the collar in a way that made him drag limply behind her before he was tossed to the floor at Ingrid’s feet. The group of ruffians formed a semi-circle in front of them, trying to hide them from the view of the door. Felix could just barely see between their legs from his spot on the floor. 

The entire group tensed as any noise ceased from outside, and several of the now nervous looking men jolted when there came a sharp knock on the door. 

No one moved an inch. 

Another knock at the door.

One of the ruffian’s leaned over to Heavy Make-up and began to mutter something under his breath to her. He only got a few words out before there was another, louder, knock at the door. They froze once more, silent. 

Everyone seemed to hold their breath for a moment, as the knocking became harsher and harsher. It felt like an eternity before the door finally burst open, sending splinters flying into the room before a large figure stepped into the room. 

Dimitri’s face was cold, apathetic, as he entered. He tossed the severed head of one of the men who had been standing guard outside into the center of the floor, still looking uninterested as his dulled blue eye scanned the group in front of him. The silence continued in the room, unbroken after the head flopped onto the floor. Dimitri raised a hand to wipe at a splatter of blood across his cheek, but only managed to smear it across his skin with the back of his hand. 

Upon seeing their interloper, Felix’s stomach twisted into knots and his still-wet eyes continued to spill over. He could only barely make out Dimitri’s features from his angle, but he could tell from the demeanor that this was not the same Dimitri he had parted from this morning. The boar, to Felix, was unmistakable; however, Felix’s unease was not from the appearance of the boar, but the thought of Dimitri trying to take on the entire group of ruffians on his own. Dimitri was strong — always had been — but 10 against one weren’t odds Felix would bet on even on a good day.

Expectation sparked in the air around them as the silence spread out, until one of the ruffians rushed towards Dimitri, blade drawn. Felix couldn’t help but flinch as the ruffian ended up running himself through on Areadbhar, gurgling a cry of pain before falling backwards to the floor, dead. Dimitri raised an eyebrow at the corpse and gestured at the rest of the group with his lance, inviting them to try as well. 

This seemed to irritate many of the others, who began charging at Dimitri one after the next, and all fell to Areadbhar before any really even had a chance to land a hit of their own. Dimitri took unhurried steps forward with every fallen ruffian, slowly but surely approaching the remaining ruffians where they gathered around Ingrid and Felix. 

Heavy Make-up puffed out her chest, probably hoping to come across as intimidating or confident, but Felix thought she looked like a chicken trying to face the wolf head-on. 

“What an honor for you to join us, Your Highness,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. She gave a half-assed curtsey, sneering at him. 

Rather than respond, Dimitri’s hand shot out, and he had her throat in his hand before she could even react. She scrabbled at his armored wrist with her sharp nails to no avail, gasping for breath almost immediately as his hold tightened around her thin neck. 

The remaining ruffians around him all began trying to attack at once, though their thin swords and knives were mostly ineffective against his heavy armor. A few got in a lucky strike here and there, managing to draw blood but were met immediately with the curve of Areadbhar sliding easily through their meager leathers, extinguishing them like a weak candle against a torrential downpour. 

It wasn’t long before the bodies of the ruffians laid in heaps around Dimitri’s feet, and he held the still struggling body of Heavy Make-up in one hand. 

“I hope you had fun,” he growled, tightening his hold around her neck until she could do nothing but gurgle and groan in his hold. “I hope this excursion was worth paying for with your life.” 

He cast Areadbhar aside, letting it fall amongst the corpses around him so he could use both hands to snap her neck before letting her body fall limp with the rest. 

With a deep breath, Dimitri took another step forward and crumpled to his knees in front of Felix and Ingrid. Immediately, his entire aura shifted, and his hands seemed clumsy as he fumbled with his knife to cut through their binds and remove their gags. 

Before Dimitri even tried to speak, Felix shot forward, wrapping his now freed arms around Dimitri’s neck to hug him tightly. 

“Mitya,” he breathed, nearly choking on his own tears as Dimitri wrapped both arms tightly around him in response. “You’re here.” 

Dimitri shoved his face into Felix’s neck and barked out a sob, squeezing him tight enough that Felix was sure he’d have bruises later. Felix cradled Dimitri’s head softly in his hands, uncaring of the dull, throbbing pain from his fingers. 

“Of course,” Dimitri sniffled, pressing his lips almost reverently to Felix’s skin once, twice, three times. “I only regret I did not protect you from this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Felix said softly, smiling even as he cried. “You came. You’re here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [chanting] resolution resolution resolution


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We were distracted is all,” Felix said sternly, trying his best to hold firm in his refusal to give specifics. He glanced at the top of Dimitri’s head where he was bent over his hands.
> 
> “Yes, you both have said this.” Dimitri looked up then, finally catching his eye, and Felix felt himself flush. “But you must forgive me for wondering what could have occupied two of the strongest people I have ever known to the point that they were caught off guard and abducted from their patrol.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW THE END we made it lads. warning this one is pretty gay. love these dorks

“So…” 

Back in the safe confines of the castle, Felix sat on the edge of Dimitri’s too-big bed, freshly bathed and dressed in his loose, comfortable bedclothes. His broken forefingers throbbed faintly from their position tied tightly to his middle fingers, and he stared angrily down at them as Dimitri paced in front of the bed.

“It’s stupid,” Felix sighed, tense with the shame that brewed in his chest. He kept his eyes focused elsewhere, refusing to look at Dimitri. 

After their show of emotion in the ruffians’ cabin, Dimitri had immediately fallen into protective-leader mode; as the three of them exited the cabin and returned to the castle, he questioned them relentlessly, and his mounting frustration was visible as they dodged around the most important one.

“You cannot hide this from me forever, Felix,” Dimitri insisted, coming to kneel in front of Felix. 

Gently, Dimitri took Felix’s hands in his own, and pressed soft kisses over his fingers. He had honed in on the broken fingers almost immediately, and even after using a few small healing spells and buddy tying them to their neighboring fingers, he was still focused on them as if they were in dire need of his attention. 

“We were distracted is all,” Felix said sternly, trying his best to hold firm in his refusal to give specifics. He glanced at the top of Dimitri’s head where he was bent over his hands.

“Yes, you both have said this.” Dimitri looked up then, finally catching his eye, and Felix felt himself flush. “But you must forgive me for wondering what could have occupied two of the strongest people I have ever known to the point that they were caught off guard and abducted from their patrol.” 

Felix sighed again, battling with himself internally about how much embarrassment he was willing to endure. 

“Does it have anything to do with why you seem to have been… distancing yourself from me again?” Dimitri asked, breaking their eye contact once more to lean his head against Felix’s thigh. “I had intended to speak with you about that tonight anyway…” 

“Ah, that…” Felix trailed off, grimacing. He sighed once more, steeling himself. “We were… talking about you. About… us.” 

Dimitri’s head shot up once more, his gaze focusing on Felix’s face at the answer. A flutter of nerves radiated through his entire body. He suddenly felt like the room was far too small. 

“What—” his voice cracked on the syllable, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “What about me? About us?” 

“The other day, uh, Ingrid had asked about us. You and me. Our...relationship.” Felix cringed at himself, displeased as usual with his ability to articulate. “She said some of the knights had been… gossiping? Ugh. That’s not quite right. She just asked what was going on, is all.” 

“That most certainly is not all if it made you feel like there was a need for space between us,” Dimitri insisted, frowning deeply. He held Felix’s hands gently in his own, careful of his injuries but firmly enough to feel like an anchor for the both of them. 

Casting his gaze away, Felix’s shoulders slumped. Of course that wasn’t everything, but he never intended to burden Dimitri with the talk of knights with nothing better to do and his own overthinking. He hadn’t really even noticed that he had been distancing himself again; he just told himself he needed to think about things and shouldn’t bother Dimitri with it. 

“Do you not worry about it?” he asked, voice soft. Felix absolutely hated the tone of his voice, betraying his nerves in a way he hadn’t in so long, expressing vulnerability like he was six and Glenn was shipping off to be a proper knight. “What people will say? What they’ll do?” 

“There are many things I am concerned with, Felix,” Dimitri answered, raising one hand to gently cup Felix’s cheek. He offered a small smile, hoping to be reassuring. “The thoughts and actions of others are, unfortunately, constantly on my mind, but not about you. My fears lie with ruling, with keeping peace and ushering in change. The relationship between you and I is no concern of the people, or the knights. What we do is our business.” 

“The King and his advisor, though,” Felix said, brow furrowed. “There will be talk.” 

“So let them talk.” Dimitri leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Felix’s frowning mouth. “You and I are adults, and we know how to keep our relationship out of Kingdom matters. Even if we managed to not keep the two separated, there is nothing about us that would bring about negative change. You make me happy. You help me relax. If anything, you are doing more for the country by being by my side than any who would speak negatively of us.” 

Felix’s shoulders slumped, and he leaned forward to drop his forehead against Dimitri’s shoulder. He was right, of course. They were perfectly capable of keeping their emotions separated from their work; in the past, it had been a point of pride for Felix that he was able to disconnect from his duty to the extent he did, but it felt like more was on the line now, somehow — like he had more to be responsible for. 

Dimitri, as if sensing Felix’s uneasy thoughts, stood to embrace him fully. Even just the warmth of Dimitri’s arms around him was a comfort to Felix; he wondered how and why he denied himself this sort of companionship for so long, and hoped it would be many years before he found himself without it again. 

“Off and on, in our lives, I have thought I learned how your mind works, but you continue to evade me knowing you wholly even now,” Dimitri said, rubbing gentle circles on Felix’s back before pulling back from the embrace to look him in the eyes. “I cannot say for sure if you are doubting me or yourself here, truthfully, but I only know one thing I can say to try to assuage your anxieties.” 

A moment of silence fell over the pair, blanketing them in a soft comfort neither were unfamiliar with. Silence was still prevalent in their relationship, regardless of their new moments of intimacy and mild conversation, so even with Dimitri’s statement hanging in the air, nothing felt off about it; there wasn’t really any sense of expectation beyond Felix’s mild curiosity as to what, exactly, Dimitri would say. There was no mounting tension, no nerves. 

“...And that is that I love you, and I have loved you since we were young, and there is nothing in this world that can change that.” 

A spark of emotion fizzled between them, but neither spoke for a moment, simply looking at one another. 

_ I love you, _ he said.  _ Since we were young.  _

Felix chuckled softly, shaking his head to himself, and Dimitri bristled, flushing suddenly. 

“But, of course, if that is too abrupt—”

Dimitri straightened his posture, rising to his feet quickly and stepping back, but Felix stopped him with a hand on his wrist. They looked at each other for a moment, Dimitri flushed and Felix smiling softly up at him. 

“‘Since we were young’?” he echoed, clearly amused. “And it took you this long?” 

“I—” Again, Dimitri tensed, his flush deepening as Felix stood and stepped up to him. 

Rather than speak, Felix reached up with his free hand to tug Dimitri down by the nape of the neck so he could kiss him properly. Dimitri let himself be moved, returning the kiss with an almost relieved hum. 

“It’s the same for me,” Felix said, barely pulled away from Dimitri’s lips. “I love you. For a long time.” 

“You hated me,” Dimitri retorted, a half-hearted argument made even less effective by his hands coming to rest leisurely on Felix’s waist.

“I was scared,” Felix admitted, pressing another kiss to Dimitri’s mouth. “Honestly I thought you were gone after the first time you snapped. Even when you acted normal, I was convinced you’d turned into this… bloodthirsty monster.” 

“The boar,” Dimitri said, humming again as if urging Felix to continue. He was not going to waste the precious moments of Felix being candid with him. 

“I never  _ really _ hated you,” Felix continued, pressing their foreheads together with a soft sigh. “I could never. Even if it hurt to watch you suffer, to watch our friends and family risk life and limb when you seemed to not care for a single one of us.” 

Dimitri frowned, brow furrowing as Felix spoke. He embraced Felix properly, holding him closely and pressing kiss after kiss to his forehead, his cheeks. 

“I know there is nothing I can say to heal the wounds I caused for you or the others,” he said, voice soft. “All I can do is apologize. I was lost. You should have all abandoned me to fight and die like the fool I was, but you stayed, and I will never be able to convey how grateful I am for that. For you.” 

“You’re an idiot sometimes,” Felix sighed again, connecting their lips once more with a mutter of, “How could I have left? I love you.” 

In response, Dimitri gently steered Felix back to the bed, kissing all the while, and laid him gently on his back on the soft mattress. He climbed onto the bed to hover over Felix’s confused face before kissing him once more and saying, “Say it again.” 

Felix laughed and draped his arms over Dimitri’s broad shoulders. Dimitri smiled down at him, his joy painted plainly on his face. 

“I love you,” Felix said, pulling Dimitri down to kiss him again. 

“Again,” Dimitri said against Felix’s lips.

“I love you.” 

“One more time.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for coming on this journey sorry it took so long to get here lmao 
> 
> i will plug my [twitter](twitter.com/B4KUGOUAWAY) this time tho. come have a fun time with me in weeb land and thanks for ur time here

**Author's Note:**

> aha you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/B4KUGOUAWAY)! thanks for reading :^)


End file.
